Bishop's World
by NightAssassin
Summary: Semi-sequel: Extreme situations can cause even those most different from each other to draw together. Of time travel and mind control, betrayal and friendship.
1. Chapter 1—A strange visitor

**a/n: This is a semi-sequel to my last story ("Couldn't Hurt") because it probably reads just fine without having read my last one…but it _does_ take place a few weeks afterwards. In addition to a premise, this one has a plot, and they do end up getting off the ship this time. **

**Unlike my last story, this one is not finished when I started posting it. I can't promise bi-weekly updates, or even that it ever will finish. I apologize in advance for late updates (and the crazy storyline), and thank in advance everyone who reads this through. **

Chapter 1—A strange visitor

Mina strolled the corridors slowly because it was easier to avoid people if she walked quietly enough to listen. Not that she strolled the corridors often; she went out only occasionally to eat.

She knew that she would have to come to terms with her new reality at some point, but she seemed to have so little time to do so. Most of her time was spent denying it—trying to forget the helplessness and pain Hyde had inflicted upon her, her own anger and humiliation at the time tempered only by the knowledge that two of the League could have been on the verge of death.

Sawyer had come to her room several times since, Jekyll had not once passed her in the hallway without attempting to initiate conversation, and even Nemo had attempted, on one occasion, to speak with her. She rebuked their attempts even as she appreciated their concern, and started to resent Skinner and Quatermain for not trying so that she could rebuke them as well.

Her time was divided between avoiding any of the men she ran across (she'd felt a strange affinity on the scant few of the crew who were women, but none of them spoke English), and realizing how ridiculous it was to avoid them. All the same, her mind protested sharply at the prospect of coming out of the shell she had created for herself.

It had taken her a very long time to come up with the obvious conclusion: get off the _Nautilus_. She was really under no obligation to be there in the first place, and there was no pressing world danger that demanded her presence. On the mainland, she could maybe stop feeling like she was constantly being hunted.

Was it right or fair? Was it a good decision? Mina considered her idea and waited. She kept careful track of the location of the ship and penned a note to leave upon her departure. For practice of course, she wasn't really going to leave the ship. But she kept going back and forth—would she go back to a life of exile? _Could_ she? Remembering how most of the League was honestly trying to help her get through this…

There was to be no consultation with the rest of them; she could hardly stand to be in the same room with any of them. She even found herself regretting Sawyer's heroic rescue of Quatermain; as the hunter's presence seemed ubiquitous; he wandered nearly as much as Sawyer had the previous weeks. And really, she disliked talking to anybody, let alone the misogynist cretin.

He was the one she had to work hardest to avoid when she left her room. The other men's lives had slipped into predictable patterns, as men are prone to doing when nothing of importance happens. Skinner, whose wounds had mostly (completely?) healed, spent most of his time on the top deck or in his room. Nemo had taken the wheel of his ship again, and hadn't been seen much since. Sawyer had been reading and sleeping mostly, as he had been exhausted after he found himself alone in his head again, only drawing off of his own energy. And Jekyll? He seemed to have confined himself to his room. Much as Mina had.

Caught up in her own thoughts, she forgot to listen, and found herself crossing paths with Jekyll in the hallway: Mina on her way to her own room, Jekyll, to Nemo's.

"Mrs. Harker, I…ah—"

She nodded a semi-greeting and plowed on ahead. It was stupid of her to not to have anticipated the two's paths crossing; every night at 7:00 Jekyll had gone to Nemo's room, the two of them meditating. Everyone knew about it; no one talked about it.

She was flustered, and didn't turn off into her own room. She didn't realize she had missed it until she was past it. She continued walking until Jekyll turned into the drawing room. She doubled back and slipped into her own room. She had locked the door behind her by the time she realized that something was not quite right. Something was definitely abnormal.

A lingering smell of blood and sweat pervaded the room. Mina listened closely as she tried to figure out what was wrong. There was no stirring of motion, no faint breath, but there was a faint scent. It seemed to blend in with the room, but somehow, it was wrong. It was fresh.

She processed all of this before she had turned around from the door, and had already concluded that someone had been in her room, and must have left as recently as when she walked past the door, perhaps when both her and Jekyll's backs were turned. Or…the thought frightened her…could Jekyll have been in her room?

As she turned, she saw the figure standing in the middle of the room.

Well then. Not Jekyll, no one else—just this stranger. Mina's first instinct was to attack—especially since she hadn't slaked her thirst in quite a while now. The stranger seemed blissfully unaware that her life was on the line, and stood with a hint of a smile on her face.

"Who are you?" Mina asked.

There was a moment of silence, as the woman appeared to consider how to answer the question. Mina quickly brushed her eyes over her potential adversity. The clothing was strange enough—what little there was clung tightly to her skin—but the array of gadgets she had on her suggested a possibility of dangerous and unforeseen weapons. Her hair was cut very short, shorter than several of the men in the League's haircut—but there was no mistaking her for a male, as each curve of her body was clearly, indecently outlined.

"I'm from the future, Mina" the woman said, "And you—and the rest of the League—are about to be in some major trouble."


	2. Chapter 2—From the Future

Chapter 2—From the Future

Nemo marveled at how easy it was to help Jekyll take control of his life.

Certainly Nemo had urged Jekyll to ignore his alter ego and to learn self-control. Several people had, but no one had taken the scant amount of time to actually sit down with Jekyll and help him. It had taken Nemo a single evening to give Jekyll's confidence an enormous boost, and only a few more to make him feel at ease.

What he had not been able to accomplish, yet, was letting Jekyll allow the possibility of releasing Hyde. This was an important end to accomplish for the sake of the League, as otherwise the man Jekyll was essentially useless.

Nemo shook the thoughts out of his mind, and for a few minutes, he was completely relaxed. He had never really been able to achieve a deep meditative state with Jekyll in the room, but this was for the other man instead of himself. Though, of course Jekyll needed to learn to take care of himself—

"Nemo! Get in here!" was heard through the walls, the voice belonging to Mina. Nemo and Jekyll both glanced up simultaneously and locked eyes, both immediately realizing that something was wrong. Mina's voice was commanding but shaken. Nemo grabbed his sword and quickly moved out of the room, Jekyll trailing behind him.

Nemo tried the door, but it wouldn't turn. He stepped back to kick through it, but the handle began rattling, presumably as Harker unlocked it. The door swung open, and Nemo walked in.

Nemo was nearly expecting the intruder, but he was not prepared for her to be in her underwear. The only parts of her that were really decently covered were her neck: clad with a collar, and her legs: covered with high boots. Behind him, he heard Jekyll give a surprised "Oh" when he saw her, and Nemo knew enough about his colleague to know, without turning around, that Jekyll had blushed and turned his head away. Nemo did not do the same, instead, taking in every detail of what may be an enemy. A whorish, indecent enemy, but an enemy nonetheless.

"Captain Nemo," the intruder said. "Good evening. I apologize to be in this state of dress, but I was quite unprepared for—"

"Who are you and how did you come to be on this ship?" Nemo asked, drawing his sword. She was female and probably harmless, but her gender was in no way a guarantee.

"I'm from the future," the woman said, "and I was on the ship when I went backwards in time. My name—you may call me Melissa. And I'm not asking you to take my story on faith." She casually tapped her belt. "I can prove it," she said. A moment passed, she glanced at her belt and tapped it again. A button depressed, but nothing happened. She looked down at it, now tapping frantically.

"Shit," she mumbled. "Shit, shit!" She removed her belt and glanced at it. "I don't suppose you have an electric outlet—?"

"Sit down," Nemo said, and turned to his crew. "Fetch weapons and the rest of the League," he said in Hindi. "She may be dangerous."

"I'm not dangerous," Melissa protested. Nemo made a quick mental note that Melissa, apparently, spoke Hindi. The lady was obviously Anglo, how had she come to know the language of India?

Melissa slowly, unthreateningly sat down. "I can speak Hindi," she said. "I've spent a lot of time on this ship _in the future._ It comes in handy."

There was a brief pause as Mina, Jekyll, and Nemo glanced at her contemplatively. Did she really expect for them to believe her? "I can't give you information about the future," she said, "but I can tell you about your League. It was formed by a man named 'M,' Moriarty. You tracked him down through Venice and Mongolia. Quatermain died. Jekyll got yellow feaver, Quatermain was resurrected after a brief telepathy trick."

It was then that Quatermain entered, Tom trailing slightly behind him. "Caught us a stowaway, have we?" Quatermain asked gruffly.

"Quatermain," Melissa said. "Good to see you are _not dead anymore._ Sawyer, glad to see you're _alone in your head._" She deliberately emphasized her knowledge, which really, she had no right to know. "Listen," Melissa continued. "If I could just get an outlet, I could recharge this useless thing," she said as she gestured to her belt. "It has proof. We compiled several events that have happened, and will happen soon. We don't have much time. A day at most, maybe two."

Nemo, against his better judgment, found himself fascinated with the idea of an electronic belt. He shook the idea out of his head, and reconcentrated on the situation at hand. It was easier to think of how an electronic garment might work, because Nemo felt turmoil in his mind as to how the woman who called herself Melissa had really gotten here.

If her technology was half as complex as she claimed, then Nemo was left with only a few possibilities. Perhaps someone had developed technology, vastly superior to Nemo's own and perhaps centuries before its time. Perhaps the "technology" was only fancy-looking bobbles. Perhaps she really possessed technology from the future.

The idea of a man alive with a greater capacity for inventing was unlikely and a bit insulting. The authenticity of her technology could be tested later. And if Melissa was from the future? Well, Nemo had seen stranger. A time-traveling scantily-clad woman was hardly more unbelievable than an invisible man and a vampire.

"Keep her in the holding area," Nemo said to the crew. "Have three men watch her. Have them armed."

She had hardly been led out of the room when Skinner strolled in. "What's goin' on?" he asked.

"I believe a meeting is in order," Nemo suggested.


	3. Chapter 3— Meeting

Chapter 3— Meeting

Perhaps it was his brief hiatus from the world of the living, but Quatermain occasionally had trouble understanding some of the bizarre customs that appeared from time to time in modern society. For instance, he couldn't quite grasp why the League felt the need to deliberately walk out of the room that they were in, tromp down the hallway, and take seats in the meeting room, just so that they could talk about what they had already been talking about. But he rolled his eyes and went along with it. Behind him, he heard Nemo debriefing Skinner as to exactly what the situation was.

"From the future?" Skinner asked as they entered the meeting room. "I don' believe it. I'm goin' to see wot she's up to." With that, he dropped his trench coat and walked to the door. His face was the only thing that was visible for a moment, and then the makeup disappeared onto a towel. As he did this, the rest of the League sat down.

"She repeatedly mentioned evidence," Mina said, "But has yet to provide any.

"Well," Sawyer interjected, "we should probably figure out what she wants from us first."

"What makes that priority?" Mina asked.

"If all she wants is a cup of sugar and to be on her way, then we don't really need proof of time travel. But she has no reason to stow away, and then let herself be caught. If she came from the future—or even if she didn't—then why would she work so hard to prove it to us? She's obviously put a lot of energy into getting together the story of the League. She must have some need of us believing her."

"It seems to me that she wants something big from us," Quatermain put in. "She sounded like she was about to send us on a mission of some sort."

"And if that's the case," Mina added, "then she _does_ require proof, at least that she's not simply manipulating us."

Quatermain's mind started to wander. This meeting was useless; it was entirely speculation and pointless suspicions. They would not, and could not, reach any sort of satisfactory conclusion without actually getting some evidence. They were going to go and question Melissa thoroughly regardless of what conclusion the League reached.

So the conversation progressed, mostly with Mina and Sawyer talking, and Nemo pitching in a few words now and then. Jekyll followed the progression of ideas, turning his head to follow the conversation, but contributed nothing himself. It was an interesting thing, though, that when he was forced to interact with people, he was quite and reserved; yet when Harker was forced to interact, she quickly faked an air of confidence.

"Well, what do we know about her?" Sawyer asked as Quatermain returned to the conversation.

"Next to nothing," Quatermain answered.

"She hadn't left my room," Mina said. "Her scent was not lingering in the hallway."

"Well she didn't just drop out of the sky," Sawyer pointed out.

"We have no alternate explanation," Nemo said. "We know she did not move through space. Then, perhaps she moved through time?"

"I don't know," Sawyer said. "It all seems so crazy."

"It seems a simple enough task," Nemo said, "To at least check her technology. If she is not from the future, then they will not do anything spectacular. If they work in unimaginable ways, then it is at least indicative of her claim."

"All that she requested was an electrical outlet," Quatermain pointed out.

"Perhaps we should give it to her," Mina said.

"Her technology could be damaging to my own," Nemo said. "We do not know her intent, we have no reason to trust her."

"We should trust her," Jekyll said. Everyone abruptly glanced up in shock at his talking. Jekyll himself glanced up sharply, as if he were as surprised at his sentence as the rest of the League.

"And what possible reason could you have of thinking that of a complete stranger?" Mina asked. "One who broke onto the ship?"

Jekyll turned his eyes down, uncomfortable with the sudden attention he was receiving, and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "he has good instincts." Which no one else heard, save Quatermain.

"We just don't have enough information," Quatermain said.

"Then we should go get some some," Mina said.

"We can't go there now," Sawyer pointed out.

"And why not?"

"Skinner's in there now. We might mess up his whatever-he's-doing. And he might be getting new information." A silence fell over the room, and the sense of "meeting" was replaced with a sense of waiting.


	4. Chapter 4—Working in unimaginable ways

Chapter 4—Working in unimaginable ways

Skinner wasn't half as skeptical as he let on, but he was curious.

When he entered the holding area, he heard music. He glanced around as he tried to decipher where it was coming from. It seemed to consist entirely of a wooden drumbeat, some kind of twangy string instrument, a tambourine, and a lady singing with a foreign voice.

"_Not bad,"_ Skinner thought. "_I had no idea Nemo's crew could play music like that."_

He shut the door quietly, but it didn't matter much. No one had seen his entrance. The music alone would have muffled it, but a confrontation of sorts was going on. One of the crew stood quietly, another shouted at Melissa, another brandished a spear gun threateningly. Melissa was talking, quietly, reassuringly, glancing nervously every once in a while at the gun.

Skinner didn't see the source of the controversy until he realized that no one was singing, and there were no instruments to be found. The music played on, voiceless but with vocals, instrument-less but with drums and some sort of strings. The music seemed to originate from a small, semi-spherical device which sat at Melissa's feet. The light it emitted pulsed softly with the music. The crew, somewhat superstitious, had probably concluded that it was some sort of magic. The conversation they were having was in Hindi, but Skinner got the gist of it: "turn off the devil music!" "don't worry about the music, stop pointing that gun at me!" She continued talking to them as she swept her gaze around the room.

Was the music magic? Maybe. Skinner tried not to discount the possibility. His mind turned briefly to considering that it was a sound-recording device of some sort, but it seemed unlikely. Skinner had heard a gramophone before, and it sounded nothing like this. The gramophone had been scratchy and was clearly a recording. This sound, on the other hand, sounded more like music than if a band had been there themselves. Besides, why would she have traveled across the world just to record some foreign songs? Perhaps she traveled a lot. Perhaps it was a hobby of sorts. Perhaps she had purchased them from a traveler. Perhaps it was witchcraft; it didn't necessarily have to be a gramophone at all.

Melissa abruptly stopped talking to the crew as she looked directly at Skinner. Melissa said something in Hindi to the crew. Her voice was no longer reassuring, but questioning, even demanding. One turned and glanced around the room. Skinner froze, by now halfway across the room, eyes on the floor, willing himself to be more quiet as he breathed.

"It must be Skinner, then," Melissa said from behind bars, still staring directly at him. "You missed a spot," she said, tracing a line across her cheekbone. Skinner traced along his own cheekbone, and found a small amount of paint. "Don't blame yourself, though, I was expecting you anyways. And I _did_ see the door open." Melissa tapped a button and the music turned off. The crewmen stood to alert, somewhat off to the side, but ready to intervene. "How are you Skinner?" Melissa continued, as though she were unaware or unperturbed that she was in a cage and being threatened by the crew. "Still invisible, I see. Or rather, don't."

Skinner realized he had been spotted, and stopped trying to be quiet. He looked hard at Melissa's face for the first time, and saw something surprising. Skinner quietly spoke Melissa's last name.

Melissa automatically looked up. A moment later, her eyes widened in shock, before she forced a smile. It looked strained, but tried to give the appearance of being at ease. "I…ah…understand that I look much like this person you speak of. Yes, close family ties—"

"I know who you are," Skinner said. "Melissa's not your real firs' name, is it?"

"It is sometimes," Melissa said. "When I'm on missions, mostly. Look, forget I looked up. Forget I responded to that name. I won't do so anymore. You can't tell the others that you know who I am."

"But…how?"

"Time travel. I can't explain it, details are sketchy as it is. It's a precise art, and you recognizing me—! No, you must forget! Everything is going to fall apart if you tell anyone. It might fall apart anyways. The odds are bad enough as they are." Melissa's composed, relaxed air of not recognizing the cage she was in fell away abruptly, as she stood and began pacing.

"Alrigh,'" Skinner said. "I won't tell. But wot are you doin' here?"

"A warning," Melissa said, "And an intervention. I can go into more detail when I earn the trust of the rest of the League. It shouldn't take too much more than a demonstration of my technology and my knowledge of past…rather, near-future events. Listen, could you plug in this useless thing?" Melissa asked gesturing to her belt. She had laid it on the ground, and the underside showed an array of mechanics. "It's out of batteries and there's no solar power this deep in the ocean. It will only take a minute for it to charge electrically."

Skinner took the belt, glancing it over. He couldn't tell what any of the individual parts were, but he recognized a few circuits of silver and several valuable, rare parts. Most of it, however, was some sort of dull metal.

"Wot do you mean by intervention?" he asked.

"Skinner, please just plug it—"

"Who's intervention?"

"Henry and Mina. It'll all make sense, I just need to do something for them. To them. A temporary rearrangement. Look please just plug it in, let it charge."

"'ow does 't charge?" Skinner asked, glancing it over.

"Put it near a socket," Melissa said, sitting down again. "It has enough energy left to do the rest."

Skinner hovered it over the socket.

"A little left…" Melissa said. A slight shift in the belt later, and there was a faint crackle of electricity, and Skinner dropped the belt and took a few steps back. "That's normal," Melissa said. "It wont harm you."

Skinner picked it up and put it back. Two thin wires inched their way out of the belt, plugging firmly into the wall, leaving the belt suspended nearly in mid-air. Skinner raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Good," Melissa said. "Now, if you could just get the rest of the League, I might have a decent chance of convincing them."

"Yeah, we might need to get you some clothes, firs'." Skinner started walking to the door, preparing to do whatever it took to get the League to believe Melissa.

"I was thinking much the same thing. Several of the men are undoubtedly ashamed to be in the same room as me in this time period. But I can't take Mina's clothes."

"Why? They would probably fit'cha perfectly."

"Yes, but they might recognize me in standard 1899 attire. I suppose Jekyll would have the most sets of extra clothing, simple preparation, no? I don't think he'll mind."

"I guess so," Skinner said.

"I will not be here much longer. A few days, maybe."

"Wot if they don' believe you at firs'?" Skinner asked, pausing with one hand on the doorknob.

"Then I must leave anyways. I'm on a time limit."

"Time limit?"

"I already told you! I can't tell you!" her tone suddenly shifted to somewhat agitated, a far cry from the 'commanding' tone that Skinner would have expected from her.

Skinner calculated her response for only a few seconds. "You've changed," he finally said, and walked out the door. He'd said it in a contemplative way, but he hoped she had taken it as an insult. It certainly had been intended as one.


	5. Chapter 5— 1899 Attire

Chapter 5— 1899 Attire

Jekyll stumbled into his room, closed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths, grateful for the moment alone. He didn't know what he had been expecting when Melissa had proposed to offer up evidence, but she had seen fit to show them things so fantastic that it could easily have been from a science-fiction novel. The belt had had flashed pictures and writing from a beam of light onto thin air, technology which had made even Nemo look taken aback for a second. The magical belt had projected sounds that were crystal-clear monologues, sounding anything but like a recording. The information it communicated was even more astounding. It shown things that the world didn't—and couldn't—know about the League and the individual members which formed it. For instance: Jekyll's written formula for his potion, something that he had burned. Something he had refused to give to anyone, no matter how literarily accurate Mr. Robert Stevenson had wanted to be.

The formula was the least of it. Pinpoint accuracy of wind speed, ocean temperatures, weather, and currents. Journal entries and random thoughts. Melissa had known things that one only learns about a person after a lifetime. She displayed everything about the League in a deluge of information and stripped them bare in a matter of minutes. The evidence she had displayed had been overwhelming. She had offered to predict the newspaper if she could be let out of captivity.

_"That actually scared you, didn't it?"_ Hyde commented. "_I'll admit the flashing pictures were odd…but scary?"_ He chuckled lightly.

Jekyll didn't think he was afraid until he reached for his wardrobe, and noticed that his hand was shaking. He yanked his hand out of his line of sight. Alright then, it was true he felt somewhat rattled; there was something disturbing about having a complete stranger knowing so much about him.

"_Well, not a complete stranger," _Hyde said. Jekyll didn't respond to the enigmatic statement. He tried to think about the clothes instead of the belt. The clothes which he'd been sent away for in the first place. Once she'd asked to be set free (and of course they'd complied; she had magical technology from the future, after all), she'd casually asked for a pair of Jekyll's clothes to wear. He didn't know why she wanted his clothing and hadn't asked. But then, why had Melissa balked Mina's clothes in the first place? The women looked roughly the same size, and there was no reason that Jekyll could think of that Melissa would have avoided them.

Without warning, an image of Mina clad only in Melissa's scanty clothing came to Jekyll. He shoved it out of his mind as quickly as it came, before he could consider it too deeply.

"_You know it's true,"_ Hyde said.

"That Mina is an attractive woman?" Jekyll said, finally bowing to Hyde's pressure and talking to him. "Another life," he said as he pulled out a button-down shirt. "She hates me, and there's nothing I can do about that right now."

_"That she—"_

"Don't want to hear it." He wouldn't have been talking to Hyde at all, except for that the normalcy was comforting.

_"Henry—"_

"She'll talk to me when she's ready. I don't want to hear it."

_"Is this about what I did with her? You can't blame me for that."_

Jekyll prepared for yet another confrontation before choking it off early, and reminding himself that this was the very reason he had started making a conscious effort to ignore Hyde.

No matter how easy it was to argue, there was time for his own problems later. The League was waiting and Melissa had been without a covering set of clothing since she'd first show up on the ship. Jekyll snatched an acceptable pair of pants and blocked out Hyde best he could—something that was becoming increasingly easier the more he meditated. Jekyll could hear only the savage resentment at being ignored as he walked down the hallway, and felt bitterly satisfied. But the silent resentment only lasted so long.

"_How long has it been?"_ Hyde asked.

Jekyll tried not to listen, but knew that Hyde was talking about the potion.

"_Over a month now. That's a long time."_

The longest amount of time Jekyll had resisted in…years even?

_"You can't keep me in here forever…"_

The most annoying thing about Hyde's observations was that they were right. Jekyll was starting to strongly crave his potion, even as he clung to hopes of overcoming his addiction. As he entered the holding room, he felt glad to be back among company. It was a distraction, at least, from Hyde.

Melissa, now outside of her cage, had a blanket draped over her. Jekyll handed her his clothes and turned his head as she casually dropped the blanket and got dressed. The clothes, once on her, fit very loosely, but she deftly rolled up the sleeves, as though she were quite used to this. Perhaps she was. She was certainly more used to it than Nemo and Quatermain, both of who looked quite disapproving at the blatant display of cross dressing.

"Now then, Melissa, what exactly is it that you want from us?" Sawyer asked.

"I think it would be best to show you," she said, touching her belt again. Jekyll winced; anticipating what would come out of the belt _this _time. "Do you have any preferred newspapers?"

"The Illustrated London news," Mina said after a moment's pause.

A moment later, a hologram of a newspaper appeared, perhaps an eighth of actual newspaper size. The headline news was about a successful ascent of Mt. Kenya; the rest was too small to make out clearly. "This is tomorrow's Illustrated London News," Melissa said.

"I suppose we'll have to take your word on that," Alan said, squinting through his glasses at the tiny newsprint.

"You don't have to take my word on anything," Melissa said, turned to the wall, and pushed a button on her belt. The hologram moved to the wall. A puff of smoke and a burning smell pervaded the air as the inscriptions were burnt into the wall, eventually leaving each page spread out, full-size, on the wall.

"I hope you have a way of removing that," Nemo said, furrowing his eyebrows at his damaged wall.

"Oh don't _worry_ about your _boat!"_ Melissa scowled. "What I'm going to warn you about—this story!" she said, pointing to a side article on the front page. "This is the important one. They covered it up pretty well, but the conspiracy is quite extensive."

"Major police shooting," Skinner said as he glanced at the newspaper-wall. "Big mystery around it. Police shooting at police?"

"Yes. He's taken parts of the policeforce," Melissa said. "This is a large-scale operation."

"Who is 'he'?" Mina asked.

"A man called James Bishop. He is from my time, and has broken out of –well, I suppose you would call it prison in this era. He's escaped to this century, and has developed a system for mind control."

"Mind control?" Quatermain said skeptically.

"The system was originally developed to calm the minds of the criminally insane. Strands of conductor metal are fused with hair upon the head, which acts as receptors for broadcasted signals." Jekyll glanced around the League, uncomfortably aware that Melissa sounded crazy but didn't know it. She continued lecturing as the League grew steadily more and more disbelieving. "Bishop crafted tools to alter the signal, to control the minds of anyone around him. He is creating signals that are coming from a machine in the interior of his fortress. The process takes about an hour as it stands, and leaves hair metallic-looking in direct sunlight."

"Doesn't sound very inconspicuous," Sawyer said.

"It's not. But it's easily covered with a cap, a wig, or by not going outside when the sun is out. Even the electric lighting on this ship would not reflect it."

Jekyll's immediate response was to not believe her…but that belt—those images. Certainly her claims weren't half as crazy as what the League had just seen. Hyde seemed to trust her implicitly, and although he wasn't a great judge of character, his instincts (damn him) were impeccable.

"Well no offense," Skinner said, "But this sounds…crazy. Totally mental."

"You are skeptical," she said. "I understand that**.** These are the problems of another time."

"Why are you coming to us for help?" Nemo asked. "Certainly there are teams better prepared for this in your time?"

"I shouldn't be here at all," Melissa said. "I shouldn't be answering your questions. Bishop shouldn't be here. Your League is the best of its time and dedicated to preserving the good in the world. It is best to turn it over to you before more damage is done. But now, I'm afraid I must push your limits of trust in me even more." She disattached two pieces of plastic from her belt, which folded to larger pieces of plastic. "Everything will make sense after two of your League put these over their ears—"

"No," Quatermain said. "We need to talk this over as a League. Step out."

Melissa nodded, and stepped out.

"Did anyone catch exactly what she wanted us to do with those…things?" Sawyer asked after the door shut.

"That's not as important a question as whether or not the rest of you believe her," Skinner said.

"Then you do?" Sawyer returned.

"Did you _see_ that belt of 'er's? Of course I do."

"_They're still pretending like she could be making this up,"_ Hyde said. "_She isn't."_

"I don't think that this is a hoax," Jekyll put in. Again, everybody stared at him. Why did they do that every time he talked? "And we don't need to believe her to investigate this."

"We _do_ need to believe her to put those…things…on," Mina said. "We can humor her claims without harm to us, but we don't fully understand what her technology is capable of."

"We need to confirm this is _actually_ tomorrow's news," Quatermain said, pointing to the newspaper pages burned onto the wall. "She had her fancy-looking lights, but she was expecting us to be looking at that. She wouldn't be expecting us to check on her newspaper."

"Can we be in the United Kingdom by tomorrow?" Mina asked.

"Easily," Nemo said, running a hand over the print on the wall. "We are already off of Europe's coast."

"She mentioned she was running out of time—would be leaving shortly," Sawyer said.

"Well, we 'ave at least another day," Skinner said.

"Then we wait for the newspaper," Quatermain said. "We make sure it's the same. If it isn't…it'll make this a whole lot easier."

"And if it is, Mr. Quatermain?" Mina asked. "What do you recommend we do then?"

Quatermain didn't answer. There was nothing for it but to wait and see.


	6. Chapter 6— Illustrated London News

Chapter 6— Illustrated London News

"Well what do you know," Sawyer said quietly to himself. "She was right."

Sawyer took the copy of the Illustrated London News back to the ship. The act of buying the newspaper was both a small thing and an enormous event. Sawyer, as one of the few who of the League who was not wanted and not recognizable, had been elected to get it, and thus was the first to know that Melissa could in fact predict the future. At least, the future of newsprint.

He threw it into his backpack, threw the pack into the boat, and started rowing. Of course the London News reached out to the coast, close enough to reach with the _Nautilus_. Sawyer sailed out randomly, knowing that the submarine would find him and surface near him.

There—Sawyer put the boat on the surface of the _Nautilus_, fastened it down, and ducked into the main submarine. He pulled out the newspaper as he tromped down the stairs, and passed down several hallways before arriving at the meeting room. "Evidence!" Sawyer said, setting the newspaper on the table.

Nemo grabbed the paper and scanned over the front cover. "Right down to the spelling mistake in the main article," Nemo said. "I believe we have enough evidence to conclude she is indeed from the future."

"From the future, maybe," Mina said. "There is no evidence that we can trust her, however."

"Hyde thinks that—" Jekyll began.

"I don't want to hear anything from him," Mina said.

There was a moment of silence at the utter honesty. Sawyer was about to point out that Hyde's instincts were usually good, when Skinner cleared this throat, probably about to intervene on Jekyll's behalf as well. Sawyer knew that an argument was bad when it made _Skinner_ uncomfortable. "Mina," Skinner said quietly, uncharacteristically earnestly. "I know who she is."

There was a moment of silence before comprehension set in. "And why the hell didn't you tell us this before now?" Quatermain asked.

"She told me not to tell you," Skinner said. "I still can't tell. But let me say, I trust 'er with my life."

"Why can't you tell us?" Sawyer asked, taking a seat at the table. He played calm, knowing that it would do no good to show how annoyed he was. But they were a League after all, and were supposed to be a team.

"She swore me to secrecy. She said 'er plan wouldn' work if too many of us know it. But I trus' her. Any of you would."

"I…know who she is also," Jekyll said. "Well, _I_ don't, but Hyde—"

"Then who is she?" Sawyer asked, feeling somewhat left out. "Who is Melissa?"

"He's not telling me now that I want to know," Jekyll said. "But I really think he's telling the truth."

Mina seemed about to say something, then stopped herself and started again. "Fine," she said. "I trust Skinner."

"Then I shall have her brought in," Nemo said. A few instructions and a few minutes later, the crew left for her.

Slow minutes passed, and Sawyer felt the seductive pull of excitement. How long had it been since he'd gotten off of the ship? Well, technically only a few minutes ago for the newspaper, but how long since he'd left for a mission? What was about to happen next was bound to be more exciting than picking up a newspaper. Melissa walked in a step ahead of the guards.

"If this is a trap," Mina said, "we will track you down, and we will kill you."

_Get over the formalities,_ Sawyer thought.

"Not a trap," Melissa said. Then, she was addressing the entire League. "I have the full and complete explanation, but first, I must ask again a favor of Henry Jekyll and Wilhelmina Harker."

Sawyer noticed that the two glanced at each other before returning their attention back to Melissa. That was perhaps the first voluntary eye contact Mina had made with Jekyll since, well, Hyde had attacked her. "This is perhaps the only way the mission will succeed," Melissa said, drawing the plastic mechanical devices again from her belt. "Please, put these over your ears," she said, demonstrating one over her own ears before holding it out to Jekyll. Jekyll stood at the end of the table and nervously held one of them in his hands.

"Is it safe?" he whispered, staring at the device and probably not realizing that he had spoken aloud. He received some answer from Hyde, and put the ear-device thing on. Sawyer picked up his gun, not really sure why, but preparing for the worst.

"What are these?" Mina asked, standing up and walking to the other side of the table to glance curiously over her plastic.

"Headphones, slightly modified. I promise, everything will make sense in a few minutes."

Mina glanced at Skinner, and raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure?" she asked. Skinner nodded minutely, his makeup showing his face to be grim and resolute. "Alright," Mina said, and reluctantly placed her own headphones over her head.

Sawyer didn't immediately decipher what happened next. The smell of smoke lit up the air as the walls seemed to burn. There were two loud whipshots of noise and a crash. Sawyer raised his gun, but heard a gunshot before he pulled the trigger. When the smoke cleared, Mina and Jekyll were on the floor, Quatermain had his gun drawn, and Melissa had quite vanished.

"Wot the bloody 'ell just happened?" Skinner asked.

Sawyer managed to reconstruct the scene—which had taken seconds in real time—in incredibly slow motion in his mind. Jekyll fell to his knees as a loud whipshot of noise came from his headphones, unconscious before he hit the ground. He slumped to the floor as Mina glanced over in alarm. Her reflexes were fast and she had been expecting something like this, and she almost had her hands up to her own headphones before another snap sent her falling as well. Nemo stood and kicked his seat out of the way, sending it crashing into the wall, and caught Mina before she hit the ground. Melissa touched her belt and a message scrolled across an entire panel of the wall. Quatermain, who realized her treachery, had drawn his gun faster than Sawyer had raised his, and had already fired a bullet. Melissa touched her belt again, and disappeared a split-second before the bullet would have hit her squarely in the stomach.

"Where is she?" Quatermain demanded, standing up and kicking his chair away, brandishing his gun. He turned on Skinner. "Your friend, where the hell is she?"

"Get that gun off'a me, I don' know where she is!" Skinner protested.

Sawyer's eyes caught onto the lengthy message Melissa had left. He skimmed it quickly. Certain phrases demanded more study, such as "mind control" and "the fabric of space and time." But now…there were injured people to take care of, and a certain bitch to find and kill.


	7. Chapter 7— Jekyll and Harker

**A/n: I have had over a hundred pages just sitting here for several months now, and have made vague promises to myself that I would update this and revise that…sometime. I never did. But the basics of the story are here, and although much of this will be first-draft, I couldn't bear to leave the story hanging like this. So here's the rest of the damn thing. I hope I haven't left too many plot points out. **

CHAPTER 7—Henry Jekyll and Wilhelmina Harker

Jekyll and Mina lay flat on the floor of the meeting room, and Skinner watched their unconscious bodies. And, best Skinner could tell, himself and the two of them were the only ones on the ship who were doing something useful and sensible. The two slept off whatever trauma those headphones had caused them, and Skinner was making sure they didn't die or stop breathing or something.

The rest of the League and crew were now on a wild goose chase for Melissa. For some reason, they thought that she was still on the ship. As soon as they stopped wasting time and realized that Melissa had escaped to the future, Jekyll and Harker would probably be transferred to the medical room. Skinner knew that Mina could not have been harmed, and Jekyll was almost certainly unharmed as well.

The message Melissa had left inscribed on the wall was somewhat lengthy, but Skinner had read it over three times. The most enigmatic part was the apology as to what she had done to Henry and Mina; insistence that it was to promote unity and understanding. She had neglected to mention what she had told Skinner earlier—that the whatever-she-was-doing was temporary and only temporary. Skinner decided that she probably had her reasons for that, and resolved to keep her secret.

He slowly turned Sawyer's revolver over in his hands as he read the message for the fourth time, thinking of Sawyer's parting words before joining the chase: "If he wakes up and gives anyone trouble, shoot him in the leg." He, of course, being Hyde. Skinner didn't know if that was necessary. Jekyll had been injured before, and Hyde hadn't taken over _then_. But then again, who knew what those bizarre headphone-things had done to them. He supposed it was possible that they could cause Mina to wake up fighting, too. But it was all academic; Skinner didn't know that he could shoot anyone, let alone a member of his own team. Especially since either one of the two on the floor could fairly easily rip off Skinner's head. Worse, if Hyde was acting up, Skinner knew from experience that Hyde had no problem hurting Skinner to achieve his ends—his memory of being beaten and shoved in a closet returned to him and he shuddered. But, who knew? If Mina was in trouble, Skinner figured that he would have to step up and help.

Skinner jumped when Jekyll stirred slightly. Before Skinner could adequately steel himself for any possibility, Jekyll woke up. He lifted his head, and set it back down with a moan of pain, his hands shooting to cup his head. "What… happened?" Jekyll asked from the floor.

"You tell me," Skinner said. "Do you feel any different?"

"I remember a flash of light…a loud noise…I wasn't shot, was I?"

"No. Melissa zapped you wiff 'er 'eadphones, and then she disappeared."

Jekyll sat silent for a moment, and Skinner wasn't sure if he was deep in thought or had gone back to sleep. "He was so sure she was harmless," Jekyll said. "I thought that Edward—" he paused, and a strange look came over his face. Skinner was used to unrelated facial expressions coming over Jekyll's face, and figured that Hyde was talking to him. But the strange look turned to hesitant realization. Jekyll abruptly sat up. His head bowed into his hand, and clearly struggling against a massive headache, Jekyll got to his feet.

"'enry, lie down, we don' know what—"

"No, just…a minute…" Jekyll set one hand against the wall, and made his way over to a mirror. He stared deeply into it for a moment, and Skinner couldn't decipher what the look was that passed over Jekyll's face.

"Wot is it?" Skinner asked.

"It can't be," Jekyll said. He seemed to have forgotten that he was not alone. "No, I have to make sure. But I'm almost positive, yes, I'm pretty sure…" Jekyll produced a vial of his elixir from his coat.

"Wait, let's not be 'asty about this—" Skinner said quickly.

"I can't hear him," Jekyll said, turning to face Skinner. "Hyde. He's not in the mirror. I can't feel him. I…I don't think he's there."

"That's impossible, isnit?"

"I thought so. But I need to see." Jekyll glanced around the room. "You have that gun. Control him…that is, if Hyde's still there. But I really think he's not."

"'enry, Nemo's not going to like this—" Skinner quickly protested, not knowing what he would do if Hyde appeared. "I can't control 'im wiff a gun!" But Jekyll had already downed a quick shot. Jekyll's face drew up in a grimace of expectance as Skinner felt a mounting dread, but moments passed, and nothing happened.

"She's done it," Jekyll said in a hushed tone. "Melissa. She's done it!" His voice quickly climbed, transforming into excitement. "Hyde. He's gone! I can't feel him—he's not—he didn't—" Jekyll broke out laughing and started pacing. "Excellent! This is excellent! After all these years!" His laughter suddenly turned to tears. "I'm free," Jekyll said. "Oh God! Free." He started laughing again.

Skinner found himself unprepared to deal with the news, or the emotional outburst which accompanied it. He awkwardly patted Jekyll's back with the hand which wasn't welded to the gun. "So, Hyde is—"

"Gone!" Jekyll said, still beaming with tears on his face. He fell to his knees and bowed his head, raising one hand to his temple again. "It hurts so badly though…but he's gone. That's what counts."

"_Temporary_," Skinner reminded himself. _"He's going to be crushed." _"Sit down," he said aloud. "You need to res.'"

The broad grin returned to Jekyll's face even as he sat. This was a strange new creature, the euphoric Dr. Jekyll, who seemed for once in his life completely unburdened. He started reading the message Melissa had left.

A thought suddenly blindsighted Skinner: if this had happened to Jekyll, then what had happened to the still-sleeping Mina? If Jekyll had lost his "curse" which had made him essential to the League, then had the same happened to her? Had the League just lost most of its firepower?


	8. Chapter 8— What had happened to Mina

CHAPTER 8 —what had happened to Mina

Alan Quatermain wasn't a man who angered easily, but once he was, he found himself unable to contain it. Unfortunately, Melissa was not on the ship, and so he couldn't take his anger out on her. The search party slowly tapered out, so he couldn't devote his energy to searching every corner of the ship for her (irrelevant anyways, he'd actually watched her as she disappeared). So he was forced to try to stop himself from bitterly lashing out at the rest of the League in anger.

It didn't work well.

"Who the hell is your girlfriend?" Quatermain asked Skinner as he walked into the meeting room.

"I know this looks bad," Skinner said, "but she—"

"I think the time for protests are over," Sawyer said from behind Quatermain. "She tried to kill two of us." Sawyer guestured to the floor where Mina was laying. Quatermain realized that Jekyll was gone—had almost certainly woken up and walked away.

"She didn' try to kill—" Skinner protested.

"We don't know that," Sawyer said dangerously.

"She wouldn'—"

"We can't take this on your word!" Sawyer shouted. "Who is she?"

"It—alrigh.' It's Mina. Melissa is Mina."

"What the hell is that supposed to—?" Sawyer started to ask.

"From the future," Skinner interrupted. "She was from the future, remember."

Quatermain was caught in his own private epiphany. It clicked into place: the nagging familiarities in her mannerisms, and that ridiculous haircut, all to hide the shape of Mina's face. The fact that her voice was obviously faked a tone lower. But that it made sense didn't necessarily mean that she was actually Mina, nor that she could be trusted.

"And what makes you think that?" Quatermain asked.

"Well, I mean, they look _exactly_ the same," Skinner said. Quatermain realized that her state of undress had caused the rest of the League to avoid looking at her for too long. But Skinner wouldn't have cared, and she would not have caught _him_ staring.

"Besides," Skinner continued. "She looked up when I said 'er name."

"That doesn't—"

"She's on our side, okay?" Skinner interrupted. "I suppose you 'aven' 'eard what she did for 'enry?" Quatermain and Sawyer glanced blankly at Skinner. "She took Hyde away from 'im," he explained. There was a moment of stunned silence.

"You don't mean that he's…gone?" Sawyer asked. He glanced around the room, and seemed to notice for the first time that Jekyll was no longer lying next to Mina. "That's…how did she…?"

"You saw what 'er gadgets and such could do."

Quatermain liked this less and less. A mission, essentially from a stranger, and she seemed bent on weakening the League as much as she could before sending them off. "And you trust her because of that?" Quatermain asked, turning it over in his mind. His musings slowly turned to rage. "You think that it's a good thing for that _idiot_ to try to send us on a mission and she takes away the League's most deadly member?"

Mina stirred, as though she were about to wake up, probably due to Quatermain's yelling. He felt a strange sense of relief. This was the only time he had seen her unconscious for more than a few minutes. It had now been nearly two hours, and who knew what Melissa had done to her? But she was waking up now…how would she wake up? Would her vampirism be gone as well?

"Mina," Sawyer said, and dropped to his knees next to her. Skinner took a few steps closer, curious as well. Mina awoke gracefully, sitting up without the faintest hint of pain or distress. It was like she had awoken on a bed, rather than the floor.

"Skinner," she said. She abruptly sprang to her feet, her eyes glowing red and her fangs starting to protrude from her mouth. She reached out and grabbed Skinner by the throat and slammed him against a wall. "I trusted you," she whispered about where Quatermain approximated his ear to be. "Who is she?"

"She—she—" Skinner was as baffled by Mina's behavior as the rest of them.

"We think it was you from the future," Sawyer said, stepping behind her. Mina dropped Skinner and whirled around. Her eyes registered understanding, and in a moment it was regular human Mina looking around the room, fangs and anger both retracted.

"Mrs. Harker, what the hell was that?" Quatermain asked. As much as a relief it was to see that she was still had her vampire abilities, her actions were disconcerting. Not terrifying—as Quatermain himself had held Skinner by the throat and threatened him in almost exactly the same manner—but not something he would expect from Mina on the drop of a pin.

Mina stiffened, glanced over her shoulder in a quick twitch. "If you will excuse me, gentlemen," she mumbled, and left.

"Well what do you known about that!" Skinner said, standing up, holding his throat tentatively.


	9. Chapter 9— Possibility of a mission

CHAPTER 9 –possibility of a mission

_To the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen:_

_I sincerely apologize for the secretive nature of my mission and unclear motives. However, the nature of time travel demands that as little information as possible be shared with those in the distant past for fear of distorting the future in unimaginable ways. In addition to adding more variables (and endangering my mission), it would have not been easy to explain myself, and my time was limited both before and after I came. _

_In regards to Henry and Mina, I apologize profusely for the pain I have caused them, and the pain that will be caused in the future. This was, unfortunately, the best solution, and I'm sorry that I had to do it. This timeframe was not ideal, with Bishop already having set his factory running, but it is the only one in which the League is not dealing with their own troubles with other madmen and sickness. Any earlier, and Bishop would not have arrived, and had I waited for Mina and Henry to make up on their own, Bishop would have already taken control of most of this hemisphere._

_The only missing element was unity and understanding. The only possible solution will hinder your mission only slightly, and will distinctly help the teamwork which you lack. _

_Your mission is simply to shut down Bishop's attempt at world domination. The plant will soon spread, and the world will not be safe. The world cannot fall to Bishop. He has no regard for the fabric of space and time, and does not understand the risks associated with him being here. I do, or my team and I would help. It was risky as it was just to warn you. I have full faith in your skill and competence. _

_The mission is simple: bring Bishop down. Kill him, if possible. He has a standing army of mind-controlled civilians, all under orders from a central machine within the fortress which broadcasts up to a mile away. He has a fortress located near a village (coordinates at the end of the message), and he has some way of processing metal (probably contained within the fortress). Both must be destroyed. _

_In regards to the wall, baking soda mixed with water will take the "burn marks" right out._

Nemo and Quatermain were wrapped up in their own grim thoughts. Jekyll respected their silence, but sat, thinking, often grinning, and seemed acutely aware of his environment.

Nemo read the inscription Melissa had left on the wall several times over, and tried to fit it into place with what Quatermain had filled him in with. The coordinates showed a hardly-habited fisherman village on the northern part of Britain. It was possible that such an isolated place harbored a conspiracy. What was more unbelievable, though, was about the woman.

It was certainly probable that Melissa was actually Mina of the future. Her refusal to dress properly could have had to do with futuristic styles of clothing and Melissa's knowledge of exactly how perfectly Mina's clothing would fit her—they certainly would have giver her away. Her voice had sounded strained, like she wasn't used to speaking in quite that tone.

What didn't make as much sense was that she expected to trespass on Nemo's ship, give them information on a dubious mission, strip the League of its power, and expect them to take the mission without knowing who she was. Of course, knowing—or suspecting— who she was, her claim would have to be at least investigated. But the Mina of the present was no fool, so why should Melissa of the future be one?

"Mrs. Harker said she's not coming," Sawyer said, stepping into the room.

"We think some'un ought to watch 'er," Skinner added. "She seemed kind of…strange. Like she was sick. She started threaten'in me again."

"Oh God," Jekyll said, suddenly standing up and ducking out the door, going in the direction of Mina's room.

"Maybe we should put someone on watch who knows what direction to point a gun in if she does go berserk?" Quatermain suggested after a pause.

"It would not matter," Nemo pointed out. "If Mina so desires to sink this very ship, I do not believe there is one among us who could stop her."

"Which brings us to the question of why, exactly, Melissa did this to herself," Sawyer said. "Or to Mina…jeez, this is confusing."

"I don't know where she got the idea that this is unifying," Quatermain said.

"The answer may or may not come to light," Nemo said. "But that's not why we are here. The question of this meeting is whether or not we should investigate Melissa's claims on mind control."

"Why shouldn't we?" Sawyer asked. "I trust Mina, no matter what time she's from."

"She's certainly done nothing to prove her trustworthiness," Nemo pointed out.

"We don' understand time trav'l," Skinner pointed out. "She probably 'ad reasons for everything she did."

Nemo considered the possibility, and decided to reserve his judgment. Most of the League seemed to be playing off of the premises that they even knew for sure who she was, which still may or may not have been true.

"The place where the shooting took place is fairly close," Quatermain pointed out, glancing at the newspaper.

"We can't go barging in without a plan," Sawyer said. "And we don't really know anything for sure."

"Then we shouldn't go," Quatermain said.

"Danger to ourselves doesn't constitute a reason—" Nemo began.

"Not danger to ourselves," Quatermain said. "Danger to others. If we don't know what the mind control is like. If it's true, I would…" he paused, and made a face as if he were swallowing his pride, "I would rather have an invisible man on my side than the other's."

"Love you too, Alan," Skinner said.

"The same goes for Harker and…well, Harker at any rate. We can't risk capture."

"We've never tried to get captured," Sawyer pointed out.

"This mission is more than the sum of the League," Quatermain said. "It would even be acceptable for one of us to die, if half of what Melissa's claiming is true. But in this case, being taken might mean giving the enemy even more firepower."

Nemo recoiled at Quatermain's speech. The way he offered death—so casually! Of course it was unacceptable to let any of the League die.

"Even Nemo and Tom and I could be assets to them," Quatermain continued. "Can they tap into intelligence? Can they tap into weaponry? Blueprints? We don't know."

"What we need is a perfectly ordinary person," Sawyer said.

"And we have one now," Quatermain said. "Henry Jekyll. He's our recon man."


	10. Chapter 10— Being attended to

CHAPTER 10 being attended to

A knock at the door came through. Mina recognized it as Jekyll's knock even before he said from the other side: "Mrs. Harker, we need to talk." They'd told her that Hyde had left somehow, been suppressed. She wished she had such problems; her vampirism seemed ready to burst forth at even the slightest provocation. "I think I know what happened," Jekyll continued. "What's happening to you."

Something deep inside of Mina told her that he didn't know, couldn't know, but that she should let him in anyways. It might be amusing to ridicule him. The rage in the thought scared her. She didn't touch the door. She feared what might happen to Jekyll if she did.

"Before I was knocked out," Jekyll continued, "I felt this…kind of sucking at my head. There was this moment of release…like Hyde had been sucked right out of my head."

She was at the door, and swung it open as Jekyll was about to knock again. She bared her fangs at him. Jekyll took a step back, but did not run. "I know you have an inordinate amount of hatred for me," Jekyll said, taking another step back. "It's not your fault."

_"Kill him. Kill him now."_ Mina actually heard this part of her as a voice, an actual instruction.

"You don't have to listen to…to…the voice," Jekyll said. Mina stopped what she was doing, which was thinking about how best to strike. "If…if there is…"

"How do you know about that?" She demanded.

"I hoped I wasn't right," Jekyll said. He turned to the wall and pounded it with his fist. "Dammit! I can't…I can't let anything hurt you."

"What is it," Mina demanded. She roughly turned Jekyll around to face her. Some primal part of her deeply enjoyed the violence she was inflicting on him.

"It's…I hope I'm wrong, I can still be wrong…I think it's him." He turned down the hallway and picked up a mirror. "We were connected by the wires, and why else would Melissa have done that?" He held the mirror up in front of Mina. "Do you see…?"

This mirror, or any other mirror, had not shown her reflection for quite some time. She was surprised to see a figure lurking there at all, even more surprised that it was not her own. She realized it was Hyde. She hissed and smashed the mirror with her hand. Her hand went spiraling through the back of the mirror, chopping the entire thing in half. Jekyll fell to the ground, a few shards of glass nicking his face and hands. Mina's hand was drenched in blood, but she felt the wounds start to heal. The blood almost drove her crazy; the thirst was back.

_"If it were that easy to get rid of me, I would have been gone a long time ago,"_ the voice in her head said. For the first time, Mina recognized it as distinctly not her own. She hissed again, but could do nothing. He, Hyde! was lodged in her brain.

"Then he is," Jekyll said. "Stupid! Here I was, feeling so good about myself…"

_"Look at what you did to her_!" Hyde said. Mina got the impression that the words were automatically directed towards Jekyll. There was a sudden reconsideration as Hyde realized that he had a new audience. _"What he did to you,_" Hyde amended.

_ "Wrong_," Mina thought_. "He's done nothing of the sort." _Did he really think that he could manipulate her as easily as he had Jekyll?

_"Yes,"_ Hyde responded.

Well, then, he was reading her mind. Wonderful, just what she needed!

"He's reading my mind," Mina said to Jekyll, suddenly feeling helpless. Of course, she let none of that into her tone of voice; her voice remained as brisk and factual as usual.

"We can work through this," Jekyll said as he got to his feet, and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe the blood from his face. He took her hand and led her back into her bedroom. His hand trembled minutely in hers, and they sat on her bed together. "There are things you can do to slow him down."

"_If he says another word, I will make his life a living hell,"_ Hyde said.

"Stop!" Mina said. Jekyll obediently stopped talking, and gazed at her curiously.

_"He has nothing to do with this, you piece of scum."_

_ "He has everything to do with this. He created me!"_

_ "What are you so afraid of?"_

_ "My life just might be a little bit easier if Henry can just keep his mouth shut."_

_ "I'm sorry to say, but you will have a much more difficult time controlling me than him." _Mina suddenly realized that her bloodthirstiness of the past few hours was due to this voice, Hyde's voice. It had been so quiet and unfamiliar she had assumed it to be her own desire. She knew now.

_ "Go on, then, say it to him."_

"Mrs. Harker?" Jekyll asked.

_ "Say it!"_ Hyde demanded. Her body erupted in pain as Hyde triggered something in her mind…but her body quickly healed itself. Mina suddenly realized that those crippling headaches that Hyde seemed to enjoy creating for Jekyll simply didn't work on her. Mina laughed out loud as Jekyll looked at her in alarm. It didn't matter, though, because Hyde had nothing on her. He was utterly powerless.

"Mina, are you okay?" Jekyll asked, gently touching her arm.

_"I will put him in the infirmary for months if he has the audacity to try to tell you anything about me!"_ Hyde bellowed.

"What is he—" Jekyll began.

"Be quiet," Mina said out loud. "Both of you."

_"You can't make me,"_ Hyde said.

Well, then, let him talk. It was the only thing he could do, anyways. The whole situation was so unfamiliar. She realized her laughter hadn't been triggered by humor, but hate. She had acted hateful towards Dr. Jekyll, but that had been in spite of him, not because of him. What had happened, she reminded herself for the millionth time, was not Jekyll's fault.

_ "Get over yourself_," Hyde interjected. "_That wasn't about_ _you."_

Mina's thought process broke off for a minute, as she felt disgust for the creature now residing in her head. She then resumed her train of thought.

Jekyll was here anyways, doing her a favor. He must have known the risks involved…both from Hyde and herself. It would have been nice to turn to Jekyll and sweetly tell him to go on, tell her all about Hyde. She could have had more control; she could have shown Hyde she had nothing to fear from him…

_"Don't you fucking dare,"_ Hyde warned.

But she couldn't hurt Henry. Hyde's threats were probably empty, almost certainly so, but she didn't know what he could do. Then again, Jekyll did.

"He claims he will hurt you if you tell me any more about him," Mina finally said.

Jekyll visibly paled, but shook his head. "I don't think he can, and I don't care if he could. There's nothing more he can do to me than hurt you. This is the…" He stood and walked a few paces, staring out Mina' windows into the ocean. "I would rather live several lifetimes with that monster than make you deal with him."

A moment of contemplative silence later, Jekyll sat on the bed again, took Mina's hand, and began to tell her everything.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Well, here was something Sawyer hadn't expected to see.

Jekyll and Mina sat, hand in hand, talking. Not even arguing. More surprisingly, they were talking calmly about Hyde, whereas just earlier this morning she had been at his throat about his alter ego. Whatever Melissa—Mina—had done, it had worked and worked extremely well.

"Um," Sawyer said, knocking at the door and announcing his presence. "We need your input before we start giving out mission assignments."

"I already mentioned," Mina replied, "that I'm not feeling up to it just now." She seemed a lot calmer now. At least she hadn't threatened to suck anyone dry this time.

"Jekyll's the one we need," Sawyer said, "Although if you're feeling up to it we'd like to have you as well."

There was a stunned moment of silence as Jekyll and Mina both looked confused. "Why me?" Jekyll asked. "As…as a medic?"

"No, for the mission."

Another moment of stunned silence. "But I don't have Hyde anymore—"

"You're not getting this. We need _you. _Not Hyde. Frankly, most of us are as glad he's gone as you are."

Mina turned away. "Please go," she said.

"I've told you everything I know," Jekyll replied and then stepped into the hallway, quietly closed the door.

"We're happy for you," Sawyer said. "Really. We're collectively writing Melissa a thank-you card." Sawyer wasn't quite sure how he really felt about it. On one hand, it had killed him to walk in on the two holding hands, but on the other hand, Mina's deep hatred of Jekyll hadn't done a damn thing for the team's dynamics. So hopefully, she would now trust the good doctor. Whatever Melissa had done seemed to have helped. As much as Sawyer trusted Melissa (Mina, dammit, get it right), he didn't understand her motives at all.

"I don't want to talk about it," Jekyll sighed.

"You would have been useless for this mission if you'd still been two people, anyways," Sawyer said, hoping to spark Jekyll's curiosity and change the subject.

"I am not capable of much on my own," Jekyll pointed out.

"Is that what's bothering you? Don't worry, we've got you covered. We're going to keep you around."

"And what exactly is it that you still want me for?" he asked as they entered the meeting room.

"We need you for an intelligence mission," Nemo answered as Jekyll took a seat. "We need information gathered."

"It's up to you, of course, if you even want to," Skinner said. "If I were you I'd get off the crazy ship while I still could—"

"N-No," Jekyll said. "I'd like to—to stay—if I could. But why _me_?"

Sawyer fidgeted uncomfortably and saw the other's discomfort as well. How was a good way to break the news, that they needed him precisely because he was an ordinary, somewhat useless man? That they'd broken down the team by usefulness and he had ranked at the very bottom? "You understand the mission, of course?" Sawyer hedged.

"Yes," Jekyll said, glancing at the wall where Melissa's message was. "Sort of…something about mind control. They took some cops in some sort of plant? We obviously want to stop it."

"About the mind control," Quatermain said. "Of course we don't want anyone to be taken, but we don't want to give them sharpshooters or superpowers if they are."

"I see," Jekyll said. "So…if I'm taken…because I am powerless…?"

"The only problem that presents is how you're supposed to really get any information," Quatermain mused, oblivious to Jekyll's self-depreciation.

"Perhaps you should accompany him," Nemo said.

"_I'm_ a sharpshooter," Quatermain said.

"We have another sharpshooter. Sawyer is nearly as accomplished as yourself, and he doesn't need glasses. He possesses the reflexes of the young."

"Since I'm replaceable too, maybe I should go," Sawyer said. "I've had training on investigation."

"Replacability isn't the only factor," Quatermain said, "as I've already mentioned."

Even as Sawyer argued his case, he observed Jekyll as Quatermain and Nemo talked over him. Jekyll first glanced nervously back and forth between the two, and then glanced at the window, mirror, shiny paperweight. Sawyer realized that Jekyll's eyes were automatically returning again and again to objects with reflective surfaces, looking for a source of strength within him that simply was no longer there.

"No one's goin' to be captured," Skinner said to Quatermain. "You'll jus' be pokin' around a bit. It's not like it's goin' to be a huge battle or anyfin like that."

Sawyer reflected idly that Mina's absence had plunged the meeting into a state of anarchy. "We shouldn't base our strategies on the assumption that we're going to be captured," Sawyer pitched in. "We should be utilizing our strategies to avoid capture at all. That means we have two people go." One replicable, one who knew what they were doing. A few moments passed of nonresponse, as no one could or wanted to refute that. "I'd be a good choice. Jekyll would be a good choice."

"Very well then,," Nemo said. "Sawyer and Jekyll will set out tomorrow to investigate and gather information."

"If you think it's for the best," Jekyll said, accepting the mission. That was good. Sawyer had been worried that he wouldn't. They had ranked the team, and he and Jekyll had come up dead last in terms of usefulness…but they could go and be "useless" together.


	12. Chapter 12—To investigate and gather

CHAPTER 12—to investigate and gather

Far too soon, the morning came.

As Jekyll was coming to realize, many things were easier to do when one was alone—reading, resting, even masturbating, his first time in too long a time to count and it felt _damn_ good. But bizarrely, there were at least three reasons why he wished he had Hyde back.

The first was simple guilt. What he had done was his fault alone, and he deserved the consequences. His problem hadn't left; it had gone on to Mina, who by no means deserved any such thing to happen to her.

And then there was that, although he'd always felt nervous before a battle or a mission, he'd known it really had nothing to do with him, and Hyde had never been nervous. It had a calming effect on Jekyll. Now, although he'd had his first quiet night in years, he had been unable to sleep at all. He paced the room, thinking that it was too damn quiet, but reassuring himself that this was a transition phase, that he would grow used to it soon. He greatly looked forward to it, but found himself growing more and more worried as the night wore on, thinking more and more about how he needed to sleep for the mission tomorrow.

And finally, although the monster was gone, the damn cravings for his formula hadn't gone with him. When he'd taken some of the potion, to test his idea that Hyde had left, and the potion had burned its way down his throat, and he'd felt better again, the tremors had started about an hour afterwards, this time much worse than before. He was shocked to find that, even without Hyde needling at him to take some more, he still wanted to.

In its most basic sense, the potion was a tranquilizer. Once Jekyll was sedated enough, Hyde could easily burst free—but the latest time he'd taken some, he'd just felt tranquilized. The sensation had lingered for quite a while, but the crash afterwards was devastating, where the craving persisted as if he hadn't taken any of the potion to begin with, where his hands shook, how he felt tired. It only got worse with each vial he took.

And of course, he still had some of the formula. He'd destroyed his last batch with the intention of never creating them again. This had changed to carrying around a "just-in-case" vial, to listening to Nemo's lectures on how if he wanted to serve his country and serve the world, that he would eventually have to submit to taking some. So, Jekyll had made more of it. Would he need it the rest of his life? He strongly suspected so.

Jekyll did manage to sleep, but not much. The process, repeated endlessly throughout the night, would look something like this: take a sip of his elixir, feel relaxed and nod off, and awake less than an hour later craving it even more strongly. Jekyll quickly realized that it wasn't helping to take it, and so set it aside, but there was no more sleep from then on.

Sleep or not, dawn broke. Jekyll dressed in the morning with the familiar motions, stuffing a few vials of the potion wherever it would stay put, wouldn't clink, and wouldn't restrict his motions. He was out the door by the time he remembered that he didn't need them anymore. He turned and walked back into the room with the intentions of putting them back, but shuddered and actually started grabbing more of the vials. Even if all it would do to him was temporarily abate the symptoms, then perhaps it was what he needed along with him. Jekyll almost turned into the dining room, where a meal was undoubtedly prepared, but paused just before the doorway, thinking suddenly of Mina. Would she be okay, here alone with…with that…

Not hungry, he turned suddenly to go back to her room. He found himself suddenly tangled in flesh and clothes, and stumbled before righting himself. "Oof, careful," Skinner said.

"I'm sorry," Jekyll said. "I didn't see you."

"But I was wearin' my trenchcoat an' everything," Skinner pouted. "What're you doing? Aren't you going to eat?"

"No, I don't think so." Jekyll glanced down the corridor, and started walking. "I need to talk to her," he said, half to himself.

Silence in his head. No mocking jest at how he's just humiliated himself, no remark on his foolish sentimentality. Jekyll smiled at the silence, before remembering that his problem wasn't gone: he had just transferred it to someone else. Worse, to Wilhelmina Harker. Besides, Jekyll knew just what Hyde would have said. And of course he was—would have been—right. But right now, he needed to see how Mina was.

"'ey 'enry!" Skinner called. Jekyll paused and turned. "I don' know what's going on wiff you and Mina," Skinner said as he walked to Jekyll and closed the distanced. His speech volume went down. "But if it's somefin' bad, Melissa told me that it would work out."

Jekyll considered this for a minute. Melissa—Mina of the future—would not have condemned herself to such torture unless it would have eventually worked itself out in some fashion or another. "Thank you," Jekyll said to Skinner, turned, and left again for Mina's room. He heard Skinner pause, then continue into the dining room.

Jekyll knocked at her door. "Mrs. Harker?" he asked.

She appeared a moment later. "I thought you would have been leaving."

"I needed to see how—if he was…" Jekyll intended for the sentence to trail off, but continued anyways: "bothering you."

"I was quite enjoying having a murder and a rapist in my head," Mina said, raising an eyebrow. "And how are you?"

Jekyll felt his face flush, and realized that Hyde could hear every word he said. In a moment of surreality, he realized that this was literally no different than before, in fact, even worse—Jekyll was humiliated, and he replicated perfectly what Hyde was thinking—but now Mina could hear, too.

"This may be a somewhat strange question," Jekyll said hesitantly, "but have you had any cravings?" Dear God, even talking about it made him start to need it. He felt his hands start to shake.

"None other than the usual one," she replied. Jekyll put a confused expression on his face and waited for her to explain. "Blood," she clarified. "But you're not thinking… for your formula, do you?"

"Yes. I'm glad that part didn't carry over. I don't know what would happen."

"He will be locked up forever," Mina said. "Or, at least, until I can find a way to—to do to him what fluorine does to hydrogen."

Jekyll recognized the mind trick which he had used himself on occasion. Encoding simple thoughts in chemical jargon was a dangerous trick, but the one of the few effective ways he had found to keep any thoughts from Hyde. Of course, Hyde probably had an inkling that hydrofluoric reactions were not a good thing.

But of course she could kill him, Jekyll realized with a start. In fact, it was almost necessary that she would. She had an eternity to tinker with the chemicals, and Hyde was in no position to stop her as Hyde had stopped Jekyll himself. "If I don't come back…" he began. How corny! It was an information-gathering session for pity's sake! "I have several notebooks on the top shelf of my bookshelf. Notes. Ideas."

"Thank you."

"I'm so sorry—"

"Don't be. Now, don't you have a mission to attend to?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

_ "That's right let the bitch boss you around."_ The thought was foreign and unexpected, but much weaker than Hyde…and Jekyll knew it to be his own thought.

_ "Shut up," _he replied to himself_. "You don't exist."_

"Good luck," Mina said, and closed the door.

"Thank you," Jekyll said to the door.

"Jekyll, there you are," Sawyer said. "Allan was just going to see us off. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, yes of course," Jekyll said, and walked with Sawyer to the top deck.


	13. Chapter 13—Ready to go

CHAPTER 13 ready to go

Jekyll didn't seem to notice that Quatermain, in fact, wasn't ready and waiting on the top deck by the time he and Sawyer arrived. Jekyll instead leaned against the railing, squinting his eyes hard against the cloudy day, tapping the railing, walking back and forth, then stopping, slumped over the railing and yawning once or twice. He repeated this process several times. Nerves? Maybe. Whatever it was, it covered for Sawyer's mistruth quite well.

No, Quatermain wasn't even finished eating. The lie had escaped Sawyer's mouth before he'd had time to think about it. Jekyll had said something, seemed about to knock on Mina's door…and then Sawyer had spoken up. He didn't know why, even though he supposed that he realized Mina would have had a strong desire to talk to Jekyll, given current circumstances.

_"I need to keep him focused on the mission,"_ Sawyer said to himself, and even believed himself, and never once stopped to think that he was jealous and vying for Mina's attentions.

But Jekyll was particularly twitchy, and Quatermain arrived shortly afterwards.

"I expect you both to know that if you're not back by noon, then we will assume that something went wrong."

"What could go wrong?" Sawyer asked, smiling. "We'll be fine."

Silence as the two cast off. Jekyll seemed particularly brooding, and Sawyer wasn't quite ready to break the silence.

Sawyer hadn't ever really thought much about Hyde. He had seemed an inseparable part of Jekyll's personality. Sawyer hadn't thought much about how tormented Jekyll was, how constantly and consistently he had to deal with himself. Hell, none of them had. It was depressing, and no one could do anything about it, although he supposed that Nemo had actually stepped up for the League and reached out a hand—but what no one had expected was for him to continue to be unhappy.

Sawyer rowed and Jekyll steered, and after a while, the conversation started.

"What exactly are we going to do when we get there?" Jekyll asked.

"Well we won't really know until we get there, right? Probably just poke around some…check out some of the newspapers, ask some people if they've seen anything. One thing just leads to another. You know, find the physical location of the fortress, maybe plan an infiltration or…" Sawyer stopped talking as he noticed a small group of men clad in black lined up along the shore. At least, he assumed they were men; they had masks over their faces. Jekyll saw that Sawyer was staring, and glanced over his shoulder at them.

"Keep going," Sawyer hissed, trying not to move his lips. "Go around them." Jekyll nodded and continued rowing. Sawyer quickly snapped his gun together and watched the men's progress out of the corner of his eye. They followed closely, and were clearly watching them.

"This isn't good," Jekyll whispered. "Should we go back?"

Sawyer considered this…they didn't even know who the men in black were. They had learned nothing about any factory or suspicious activities by a time-traveling madman. But as the lapping waves drew them nearer, Sawyer glanced over them and realized that every one of them was armed.

"Yes, go," Sawyer said. The first shot was fired.

Sawyer quickly unloaded his gun at the group, a few fell, but not enough. "Get down!" he shouted, picking up his ammo so that he could shove Jekyll to the floor of the small boat. Jekyll was hyperventilating, and Sawyer remembered that, although Jekyll had been in many worse situations, he hadn't been himself at the time, or had been prepared to become someone else.

"Have you ever fired a gun before!" Sawyer shouted over his gunshots.

Jekyll shook his head 'no.' Sawyer thought it over…decided it would probably just a liability to hand him a gun.

Reinforcements for the small group at the shore came, each armed and with ammunition. As shots hit the water around the boat, small fish began to float to the surface. Dead. Sawyer thought for a moment that they had been shot, but that was crazy…there were too many of them.

A group of five men got onto a boat, and although there were no paddles, it moved anyways. It must have had some sort of engine. Whatever it was, it was loud and it was fast. However, as Sawyer waited for a perfect shot, they drew nearer and clearer in his sight. It was a simple task to pick them off. They fell into the water. Sawyer reloaded.

"Start rowing back to the ship, if you can," Sawyer said. Jekyll nodded quickly, glanced over his shoulder at the shooting men, picked up the oars—they both shattered in his hand. Jekyll yelped and dropped them into the water.

They had both been shot. For whatever reason, the men in black were sharpshooters, but were not trying to kill Jekyll and Sawyer.

Many of the men in black died, but they continued sending boats with a suicidal persistency. The boat didn't have enough room to adequately cover two people, and Sawyer was running out of options. He capsized the boat, holding his gun in the air. Jekyll floundered before sinking into the water.Sawyer started, but then remembered that Jekyll knew perfectly well how to swim if he would just stop panicking.

Several shots were fired, and when two of them hit the water, there was a resulting electric burst. It hurt but not cripplingly, and Sawyer felt his skin tingle and it grew more difficult to swim and shoot. The electric bullets were slowly paralyzing him.

But another boat was sent out after that. Sawyer was out of ammunition. Well, then, _now_ they were screwed. Without even a handheld weapon, the two would be killed, or worse, taken. Sawyer considered trying to swim to safety, but the boat was so fast that it would be an exercise in futility.

Where was Jekyll? Sawyer suddenly looked around, and saw his legs from under the boat. Well, maybe one could be saved.

"Where is the other?" One of the men asked, his voice only slightly muffled by the mask which covered it.

"There is no other," Sawyer replied. "What, mad because I killed a few of your friends back there?" Provocative and dangerous, but Sawyer refused to give them more than—

"There he is," one said, pointing to the boat.

The boat was tipped upright, and there was Jekyll, staring meekly back. Using the distraction and the last chance he had, Sawyer tried to grab one of the guns. Almost as quickly, a syringe was jammed into his neck.

So, capture then.

He didn't fall asleep as much as he lost his desire to move. He tried lazily to grab the gun, and then the surface of the boat. He couldn't breathe as he sank underwater, but he hazily watched the surface draw away, saw Jekyll dive down to pull him up, felt hands pulling him on deck. Jekyll even said something, quiet and unhopeful, before being pulled on as well.

Sawyer watched as a blindfold approached his eyes and was tied behind his head, felt his hands being tied up and a gag being put in his mouth, and after that his trip was indiscernible with sleep. The jostling of the ship could have been himself turning over, Jekyll's muted weeping could have been a dream. A long time passed before Sawyer started coming back to his senses. At some point his restraints had been removed, and he forced his eyes open. Jekyll lay on the floor, as if he had been asleep, but Sawyer waking up had woken him up as well.

Jekyll looked up as Sawyer sat up.

"Do you know where we are?" Sawyer asked. His body shook and he had trouble maintaining a sitting position, but his mind was clear enough.

"No," Jekyll replied.

"Did they drug you also?"

"No."

"But you didn't pay attention to where we were going?"

"I was blindfolded. They made a lot of turns. We were in a carriage for about an hour. For all I know they were driving around in circles."

Sawyer realized that all of the tension Jekyll had accumulated before and during the capture seemed to have melted away entirely. Why? They were in a far worse position. Nonetheless, he seemed complacent, even a bit stoned.

"I'm so tired…"

"Come on Jekyll, focus!" Sawyer instructed, standing up shakily and examining the cell. They were not alone in the building. The sounds of other men—impossible to judge how many—surrounded them. Stacks of cages stretched out as far as he could see, some holding a single prisoner, but most of them holding three or four who pounded on the cages, shouted, talked, or lay still.

"How long did you walk past the cages?" Sawyer asked.

"Few minutes."

Perhaps it had only been thirty seconds. Sawyer knew that people added time when adrenaline was high…but damn it, Jekyll didn't seem particularly nervous. The idea that he was keeping his head in such a situation was impressive, bordering on impossible. "Are you sure they didn't drug you?" Sawyer asked, glancing at Jekyll more critically.

"I liked you better when _you_ were drugged." An empty vial lay on the ground of the otherwise clean prison floor.

"What is that?"

"It's…you wouldn't understand."

Drops of red liquid clung to the sides of the vial, and it clearly was fresh. Jekyll's potion! "Why are you—why did you take this?"

"I…can't…I need it. Even when he's not here." Quietly, to himself: "Especially when he's not here."

"Do you have any more?" Thinking of what Quatermain had told him of his opium days.

"No."

"You're lying."

Jekyll didn't answer as a group of men walked by, each wearing the black suits of the people on the shoreline. Two trailed behind the group who were dressed distinctly different from those ahead of them. The first was a balding man with a set of silver-rimmed spectacles on his nose, wearing a formal business suit. A grotesque scar wound its way from his ear down his neck. The second could have been his daughter, almost a pre-teen but dressed much younger in a colorful dress, gawking at the prisoners as she strolled by them.

The group passed first, then the man. The girl stopped and stared into the cage. Sawyer stared back, not staring so hard as to miss noticing that Jekyll dropped his gaze after a few seconds. "This one, daddy," the girl said.

"These ones are special, honey," the man said, glancing at a clipboard suspended on a nail near the edge of the cell. "Dangerous."

The girl smiled and laughed. "No he's not. That one there."

"Which one?" The man asked, turning and looking into the cage.

"The tall one," she said, pointing to Jekyll, a grin breaking out on her face. Saywer and Jekyll exchanged glances.

"I don't know," the man said, somewhat skeptically. "I suppose we could test him, but are you sure this is the one you want? There was a nice one back—"

"No, this one."

"Very well," he said to his daughter. "Come here," he instructed Jekyll.

Sawyer caught Jekyll's arm. "You can't be addicted to anything here," he said quietly. "Break the habit. And if you escape, don't worry about me."

Jekyll nodded, and stepped up to the bars of the cage. The little girl grinned broadly as the older man examined him.

"I still think he's too tall—" the man started.

"No, daddy, this one!"

"Alright." To Jekyll: "Put these on." A pair of handcuffs were passed into the cage.

Jekyll glanced back at Sawyer. But the men in black were out there, was Jekyll really planning on arguing with those guns? Sawyer made an impatient "go on" gesture with his hand. Handcuffs were put on. Every man drew their gun as the spectacled man pushed a button on a handheld remote, and the door opened. Sawyer flinched as they trained every one into the cage, but allowed that they were only leading Jekyll out. The doors were slammed shut, the handcuffs were tightened, and Jekyll gave Sawyer one last terrified look.

Sawyer offered him a nod. It was all he could do.

"Let's not get too attached, Krissy," the man said to his daughter as they walked away. "You know that not all of them turn out peaceful. This one especially—"

"He's the one," Krissy replied. The sound of their footsteps soon wore down.

Sawyer certainly wouldn't have blamed Jekyll for escaping this prison and leaving alone, but Sawyer knew that he couldn't leave without Jekyll. The split made planning his escape that much more difficult.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Twelve o'clock.

Skinner stared at the clock and wondered what it meant. Something was triggering in his brain—light alarm bells. It was ten minutes 'til, and something urgent would happen at 12:00. Something urgent…but not necessarily bad.

He was hungry. Hungry! Was that it—12:00 is lunchtime? No. No, of course not, although it wasn't a bad idea to get some food anyways. Skinner picked up a few rolls off the table, and some of the crew jumped. They never did seem to get used to his presence.

Wait. "Presence" seemed to trigger something. 12:00, never did seem to get used to his presence. No, nothing. Dammit, what was he thinking?

Five minutes till. Was it important or deadly? Both?

Four till. Did he forget something?

"They're not back," Quatermain said as he walked into the room. "Have you seen Nemo or Harker?"

Noon, of course. Quatermain had made Jekyll and Sawyer promise to be back by noon. And, although Jekyll and Sawyer had left hours ago, they were not back. None of the League had been worried about the simple mission, which was almost certainly boring as hell and would only turn up marginally useful information.

"Well no, but don't loose your 'ead about this—"

"We must assume that they have been captured or worse," Quatermain said.

"They could just be running a bit late you know. But anyways, Mina's off in 'er room, and I don't really know how Nemo spends 'is time—"

"—and it is none of your concern," Nemo said as he walked into the room. "Mrs. Harker has been sent for. Jekyll and Sawyer have not returned," Nemo said. Was that a glimmer of worry?

Skinner reconsidered. The two had been gone hours by now, and Quatermain had made Sawyer _swear_ he would be back. Quatermain was a great man, but a nervous man, and Sawyer respected that. If he wasn't back now, something was probably up.

"Yes," Quatermain said. "We go in after them. Immediately."

"Alright, so we go in," Skinner said. "But…maybe not all of us."

"And who would you leave behind?" Mina asked as she entered the room. "Assuming we are speaking of a recovery mission for Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Sawyer?"

"We-ell, we hadn't gotten a chance to see if you were feeling up to—"

"Then you were willing, even adamant, that Jekyll endanger himself without the benefit of his alter ego, but unwilling to allow me to fight—?" Skinner thought she were about to say more, but she abruptly stopped talking. Her face suddenly flushed.

"Can you fight or not?" Quatermain asked.

"I am not incapable."

"Okay, we believe you," Skinner said. He realized what her attitude was. It was somewhat like those times when Skinner said something deliberately facetious at the meetings to try and get a rise out of her, and it worked. As much as she tried to mask it in coldness and anger, Skinner knew that she was actually irritated out of her mind. He wondered, again, exactly what had happened when she'd been knocked out by the "modified headphones."

"And while you bicker like children," Nemo said, "Jekyll and Sawyer's trail grows cold." Nemo, practical as always, had skipped the emotional analysis. "If Mrs. Harker wishes to come, she comes."

"Then let us depart," Mina said, speaking the unspoken agreement that they, and all of them, would leave immediately.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

The girl named Krissy walked a little bit behind Jekyll, and he got the distinct feeling that her eyes were on him the entire time. She had picked him out, even at the older man's skepticism that he was harmless—what did all this mean?

"Where are we going?" Jekyll asked. He was clubbed rudely in the back in response, and fell to his knees. It didn't hurt much, as most of Jekyll's pain sensitivities had been dulled by the glow his potion had provided him.

"Keep walking and shut up," one of the guards ordered. Jekyll got back to his feet and kept walking.

_"Let me kill them,"_ Jekyll's mind's representation of Hyde demanded.

_"I can't,"_ Jekyll replied to himself. Wishing, for the first time, that he were not truly alone.

The girl watched the array of emotions which passed over Jekyll's face. She seemed curious, even fascinated, but showed no sign of realizing that being clubbed was usually a painful experience. After a few moments, she ran a few steps to catch up with the older man. "I told you so," she said quietly.

What in God's name was going on?

They reached a room with a chair in the center. The man and the girl went into a different room, and then took their seats next to a plate of glass overlooking the room Jekyll was led into by the guards. The man leaned forward and touched something on the desk. "Sit," he said, and his voice echoed inside of the room. Jekyll glanced at the chair. With its cap and wires and buckles and restraints, it looked suspiciously like an electric chair.

As if deciding he had waited too long, Jekyll was punched in the stomach. He doubled over, and was pushed onto the chair. Guns were put to his body and his head as one of the guards tied his feet, chest, and neck to the chair. Jekyll felt a moment of dumb relief as his hands were removed from the cuffs, which was quickly diminished when they were then cuffed to the arms of the chair.

In pain but still relaxed from his last drug intake, Jekyll wondered if this was it: if this was where his mind was to be controlled, and his body taken over. He supposed he could live with it. He already had for over ten years.

All of the guards left the room, and the man with the glasses touched a button. The clear booth suddenly turned into a mirror, and all that Jekyll could see was himself, pitifully restrained and trapped. The man walked into the room a moment later. "I'm a fair man," the man said. "I'll give you a chance. My guards have left, and are circling on their normal routs. I have blocked off all visual contact from my booth. I will leave you alone, and in exactly sixty seconds, I will return and shoot you in the head." He then left.

Jekyll broke out in cold sweat and started thrashing against his restraints, wishing desperately that he were more than a man. It would have been difficult but possible to escape as Hyde, but now! Jekyll struggled to pull an arm free, wondering if he dislocated his thumb he would be able to get free. He pushed against the restraints, but there was simply no weakness to them. "Why are you doing this!" he shouted at the mirror. The mirror, which only reflected himself and no one else.

The minute passed slowly, and true to his word, the man walked in, drew his gun, held it to Jekyll's head. "Any last words?" he asked.

"Who are you?" Jekyll asked.

"Strange last words," the man mumbled as he cocked the gun. Jekyll squeezed his eyes shut as the man pulled the trigger.

Click.

Jekyll had just enough time to register that maybe, just maybe he was still alive for a little while, when the man pulled out a knife. "If you can't escape for your life, you can't escape for anything," he mumbled like a Zen mantra. A small incision was made on Jekyll's left hand. It bled.

"No regeneration," the man said quietly to himself. "No useful powers or abilities," the man called to the mirror. It grew transparent again, and the little girl clapped and smiled happily, but soundlessly. The booth was soundproof on the inside, but Jekyll, glad that he was somewhat tranquilized, was more concerned with trying to slow his pounding heart.

Two guards returned to the room. Their guns were out but not drawn. "My name is Bishop," the man said. "James Bishop. You have passed the first test. If you pass the next one, then you will be out of a lot of trouble. Now, would you like your teeth shattered, or would you like a mouth guard?"

There was a brief silence, and Jekyll realized that Bishop actually wanted an answer. "The second one," he said, staring at the ground. A rough barrier of plastic was shoved in his mouth, conformed around his teeth. The man returned to the booth and pressed a button. His voice flooded the room again. "I will ask you a series of questions," the man said, his voice again flooding the room. "If you do not answer the question, you will be shocked. If you are lying, you will be shocked. And it will hurt; electricity really does hurt. I do enjoy the old-fashioned methods of interrogation." Shocked? Good God, it was an electric chair. But if Bishop wanted him dead, Jekyll supposed that he already would be. "This is what will happen if you lie to me," Bishop continued. A loud humming sound filled the air. "If you hear this sound, there is still time to answer me. If you do not…"

Pain suddenly flooded Jekyll's senses, and there was no room for thought. It wasn't until after it was over that Jekyll realized that, if not for the plastic around his teeth, his tongue would have been bitten clean off. And it had hurt, but it had been bearable. Perhaps he could get through this. The girl, Krissy, watched intently. Jekyll felt a pang for the poor girl's childhood. No one should have to witness torture, least of all little girls.

"What is your name?" Bishop asked.

Jekyll quickly, automatically reached for a false one. "Jonathan Utterson," he said thickly, his voice muffled and a little unclear around the plastic. The humming sound filled the air again, and Jekyll realized that he was about to be shocked. He opened his mouth to correct himself, but it came anyways, fast and hard.

"Turn it off!" he shouted over it, even as it died down. "You're going to damage—" thinking of the potion vials, but suddenly realizing that there was not a man alive he would less like to know about his addiction.

"Damage what?" Bishop asked.

Jekyll calculated. They might be taken from him, and if they were, they could be replicated. But if they were not, they might shatter against the influx of electricity. They would be gone.

And he would be shocked again.

The humming filled the air again, and raging pain filled his senses. It ended abruptly, leaving a moment of silence, before the humming started again. Jekyll quickly reached for a false explanation, but could not sputter it out before he was shocked again. The room grew hazy, and Jekyll leaned against his restraints. The electricity was excruciating.

"Mythelf. I can't be harmed," he said, working hard to spit out what words he could around the plastic in his mouth and the growing numbness of his body—offset by a familiar "pins and needles" sensation. It was a half-truth…the humming started again. "My vialth!" he cried. "My elixir! I need it, don't—don't turn it on, you could break it, I don't have any more with me."

"Where are you vials?" Bishop asked.

Jekyll clenched his jaw. He had _no_ intention of getting shocked again if he could help it, but how could Bishop have known that Jekyll was lying? Had he guessed? He certainly couldn't know for sure…could he?

"You don't learn very fast, do you?" Bishop asked as the humming started again.

"In my shirt. Pockets." Technically the truth, but there was a lot more than that. Thankfully, Bishop didn't seem to catch on. Thankfully too, the humming turned off. One of the guards shuffled Jekyll's shirt around the restraints, and started pulling out several of the vials. He held them up to the glass.

"Is this your elixir?" Bishop asked.

Jekyll nodded.

"Is this _all_ your elixir?"

Jekyll nodded again. The humming started. "No!" he said. "There's more. Two in my shoes, one in my sock, three at the bottom of each pant leg, please just don't destroy them."

Each were fished out in turn, and set inside of the booth. "Is that all of them?"

Nod.

"Why is this so important to you?"

The humming started nearly immediately.

"I…" he couldn't finish the sentence, and was shocked again. Pain flooded his body as he thrashed against the restraints. Worse, he thought he was starting to sober up again.

"Why is this elixir so important to you?"

"I need it. I crave it. I want it."

"Excellent," the man said, and turned and said something to his daughter. He depressed the button again. "What is your name?"

"Henry," he replied, leaning against his restraints. Except his head; the rope around his neck forced him to keep his head up or suffocate.

"What is your last name?"

"Jekyll."

Through the booth, Bishop and Krissy were talking. Their voices were muted through the glass, and because no one touched the button, Jekyll could only watch. A few moments passed as Bishop looked at a screen, touched it a few times, looked back and forth between Jekyll and the screen.

"What is the name of your companion?" he asked. "The one which shot nearly 30 of my guards?"

Jekyll didn't say anything.

"What is the name of your companion?"

The humming sound filled the air again.

"Sawyer! Tom Saywer!"

The humming quieted, and Jekyll breathed a sigh of relief. Bishop touched the screen a few more times, and nodded.

"Would you escape, if you could, without him?" he asked.

Jekyll considered for a moment. "I might."

"Do you see any conceivable plan of escape?"

Jekyll instinctively started utilizing strategies he had learned from Hyde, or rather, to spite Hyde. Answer on technicalities, think in terms of the absolute literal definition. He shook his head, preferring that to speech. Besides, it was a lot less vocal. Escape? Definitely not. Rescue, on the other hand, was conceivable, bordering on probable. Even if Hyde had been here, he could have answered the same. Henry Jekyll could not escape, Edward Hyde would have already done so. It would have been damn easy to get away with a technicality on that ground.

"Would you run if there was a possibility of being caught?"

"No."

"Excellent, and let me tell you…we will always catch you. And you will be punished. Now, then…" Bishop glanced again at the screen. "Dr. Jekyll. Are you a physician?"

"Somewhat."

"Excellent." Jekyll saw that the man was taking notes. "Would you harm a 9-year-old girl?"

Jekyll shook his head.

"Would you harm her if it meant your escape from here?"

Jekyll didn't answer, actually couldn't. Could he hurt her? Why was Bishop asking— But, as if realizing his inner debate was straying from topic, the humming started again.

"No," he said quickly. "No, I would never harm her. Never."

"Perfect," the man said. He turned and said something to his daughter.

Bishop again walked into the room where Jekyll was still strapped down, and Jekyll slowly felt the aftereffects of his elixir starting to wear off. The nervousness, the craving, the jumpiness were all coming back. "Would you leave without these?" Bishop asked, holding one of the vial in front of Jekyll's face.

"No, I wouldn't—" the humming started. "Yes." He had more on the ship.

"Where are you from?"

"London. Nearby."

"Do you need this, or just desire it?" Bishop asked, lightly tossed a vial in the air. Jekyll winced and moved to catch it, but of course could not.

"I don't know. I don't want to risk it."

"Very interesting," Bishop said, now pacing and staring at the vial contemplatively. "Now, my sources have information regarding a transformation…is there any truth to this?"

Jekyll shook his head. It wasn't true anymore.

"Hm. Either you are lying or they are mistaken. What is the bare minimum I can give you and still keep you alive?"

"One of the vials a day." Jekyll padded his timing without thinking. He refused to correct it, he couldn't live on a minimum. But the agony on his face showed Bishop that he was lying as Jekyll thrashed back and forth in pain.

"What is the bare minimum I can give you and still keep you alive?" Bishop asked again.

"A quarter vial. Every day."

"It will do." He glanced over the vials. "Thirteen vials makes 52 days. Perhaps we will cure you after that." Jekyll breathed a sigh of relief. If Bishop thought that this was nothing more than some sort of drug, then he would not even attempt to replicate it. Bishop stared at the vial in his hand, and put it in his pocket. "Of course you are having trouble speaking with the guard in your mouth, but you must be wondering what I want from you."

Jekyll nodded.

"Well, all current psychological textbooks indicate that companionship is important for adolescents—although I suppose you haven't heard much about psychology, have you?"

The humming started, because Jekyll hadn't answered the rhetorical question.

"No!" he said quickly.

"Good. Now, my daughter, my Christine, doesn't like the guards. Probably for good reason; for all intents and purposes they are insane. So, she picks out some of the more harmless prisoners, they keep her company. In this case, you. You will play with her. You will be interesting, flattering, and obedient." He whirled, his hands against Jekyll's shoulders, his face suddenly inches from Jekyll's, Bishop's face contorted into an angry snarl. "And if she ever comes to me upset or angry because of you, you will be punished. If you harm her in any way, you will be tortured. Understand?"

Jekyll nodded understanding. Was this it then? It was almost too good to be true. Jekyll hardly dare believe it—instead of having his mind taken over by a time-traveling madman, he would take care of his daughter instead. This was Jekyll's way out…or his way to gradual insanity. He wasn't sure which, but certainly didn't want to jeopardize his precarious position.

Besides, how difficult could a 9-year-old be?


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Edward Hyde was not amused.

He had of course realized the difficulties to existing in Jekyll's head, but hadn't realized the benefits. How easily he had manipulated Jekyll. How he'd carried on dialogue. How he'd even, on occasion, been given the chance to roam free. Now, however, he was stuck with a hard-headed bitch who seemed to go out of her way to deny Hyde any sort of scant enjoyment he could find in her head.

Stuck with her in the most literal way possible. Not only had the League scattered to investigate different portions of the town, the town itself was nearly deserted. A few people wandered by (every one of them walking quickly and purposefully), but the town showed promise of many more inhabitants, all of who had probably left very recently. The houses were pristine and maintained, but very few people walked the streets.

And that was the only interesting thing that this little British town had to offer. The choice of mission could have been a hundred times more exciting. Hyde could sense great power in Mina, could sense her darker self. Instead of utilizing the power to destroy or satisfy her thirst, they were looking for Saywer and the _other._

"_You could just let them die,"_ Hyde said. Futile, of course; Mina said nothing. She never responded. Hyde considered what he would do to Jekyll when he could. He sensed that the position he was in now wouldn't last forever. And afterwards, where would he be? He didn't know, but perhaps he would be in a position where he could hurt him.

Hyde glanced at what Mina was doing. She walked down a road, no longer at the seashore. The area was deserted, but for a two people, a hobo and a nun. Both had their heads covered, the nun with her habit, the hobo with his hat. But the nun. Hyde felt the faint tickling of intuition.

_ "That one_," he said._ "Over there." _

_"Excuse me?"_ Mina responded. Hyde felt an unexpected sense of relief to be carrying on dialogue. A deeper part of Mina, a rapid stream of thoughts, said that so long as Hyde wasn't making lewd suggestions or cruel comments, there was no harm to speaking with him.

_"You heard me, wench. That one."_ Her eyes were directed over the nun.

_"Your hatred of the church disgusts me."_

_ "And your stupidity bores me. If you pulled off that hat of hers, her hair would look like metal. She's one of them."_

The nun realized she was being stared at, and glanced at Mina, who quickly glanced away. But in that second—there had been a glimmer in the upper corner of her habit, and Mina noticed it too. She began considering if it had been a strand of hair.

_ "Yes, it was a fucking strand of hair."_

Mina glanced around. None of the other men had followed her. Nemo was examining the houses and grounds, Skinner was god knew where, and Quatermain was going over the bullet-ridden boat at the shore.

_ "You don't need to consult them to know that I'm right."_

The nun began walking. After letting her turn a corner, Mina moved to follow. Hyde immediately felt a strong misgiving, strong enough to make Mina hesitate. If it had been Jekyll—Hyde would have told him to have some of the elixir out, if he wasn't going to let him out, then at least prepare to do so. He could do nothing for Mina.

He felt faint tugs of curiosity, and realized that the bitch was trying to track his thought process. _"As fascinating as I am,"_ Hyde said,_ "you should be more concerned with the trap you're walking into."_ There, certainty. He had no reason to think that, but had no misgivings for his irrationality. It was a trap, and that was it.

_"Trap?"_ Mina responded. _"I think not."_

It didn't matter that she didn't believe him. At least she was on her guard. There was a slight motion as Mina turned the corner. _"Now! There_!" Hyde shouted. A net quickly descended around Mina as the nun continued walking. Mina's body broke to pieces, each individual bat being small enough to escape the descending net.

A single bat almost didn't escape. The others moved as a swarm, synchronized in practiced escape. One was struck temporarily dumb with realization, that the bat was its own person, was not a part of Mina. One bat of the swarm, and one bat alone, encompassed the recent addition to Mina's mind. One bat, alone, was Hyde!

This was a new form. A fitting form, with the power of flight and a thirst for blood. Hyde took off with his newfound wings, and escaped the small group of black-clad men with the rope. One took a shot at him.

Hyde's immediate reaction was to go back and rip the man to shreds, before realizing that his new body, the bat, physically could not do that. And that was all that was holding him back, Hyde realized as he flew to the nearby forest for cover. For the first time in his miserable life, he was completely, truly alone in his head. But what good was that, he thought, if there was no beer or prostitutes to enjoy it with?

In an instant, it was over. He had lost track of the rest of the bat swarm, but felt himself being tugged back…

And Mina was whole again, on the beech, the men in black approaching and Quatermain and Nemo preparing to stand their ground. Edward Hyde prepared to enjoy the scene of violent confrontation. Blood would flow freely.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Sawyer watched, and knew that he was about to be taken. The men to his left were being taken, and were dragged before his cell, some unconscious, some walking. His mind scrambled for a plan, anything which could get him out of here. On the plus side, he could walk again now that the drugs had worn off, but had been stripped of all of his weapons. Could he escape before they got here? He attacked the windows and the door with his fingers, searching, looking for an opening of some sort. He hadn't picked a lock in a long time, but could conceive of himself doing so. But even if he'd had the proper materials and enough time, the doors weren't held closed by standard locking technology anyways.

Sawyer couldn't see exactly how the guards were putting people in handcuffs, and didn't know exactly who they were knocking out. He couldn't form a strategy for that crucial juncture in time before he was bound but after the cage was open. If it was anything like they had Jekyll (and it almost certainly would be), then he had no hope at all.

He sat on the bed, trying to give the impression of still being hopelessly doped up while steeling himself to dive for the door. His façade didn't work, and he hadn't really expected it to as the guards glanced at the clipboard outside and decided that he was dangerous. They drew their guns and went through the same motions they had gone through with Jekyll: the threats, the handcuffs, the held at gunpoint. Saywer accepted defeat, at least for the moment, and walked quietly with them. At least if he was conscious, he could observe the rooms around him and get acquainted with the layout. Down the hallway (a window showed him to be at least one floor off the ground), across a room, past an office. It was richly decorated, was it Bishop's office? A twin pair of belts sat on his desk, which looked almost exactly the same as the one Melissa had carried. Before he could examine it further, one on the guards pulled the doors shut.

He was taken to a room with about ten other prisoners and at least three guards per prisoner. The amount of guards within the place really was staggering, almost as if an entire village had been kidnapped. Sawyer only briefly reflected on that, because what they were doing was the real mystery. It was enigmatic but ominous: free men were held at gunpoint, shaking and trembling, while they were sat in a chair and a metal cap was lowered over their heads. The loud whirring of electronics and machinery filled the air.

Sawyer was led to a chair, which looked suspiciously like a lady's salon chair, with a metal cap over the top.

"Sit," he was told, and he sat. He refused to beg and plead, as most of the other men were doing—it was a waste of effort. Instead, his mind raced all the time. Could he escape now? Even if he didn't, the League may be able to rescue him, although damned if he saw how.

The cap was placed over his head, and there was the crackling hum of an electrical current starting. The air around his head began to be suctioned lightly, and his hair was drawn out from his scalp in all directions as his hands and feet were locked to the chair. There was a whirring sound, and in his peripheral vision, he could see tiny mechanical arms turning tight circles and infusing thin strands of wire within his hair.

If what Melissa had said was to be trusted, Sawyer figured on an hour of sitting in the chair. He tried to focus again, now, how could he remove his hair from the contraption, his feet and hands from the cuffs, disable the guards—

But he had only sat for a minute before the process was done. The one thing Sawyer hadn't expected was the sudden freedom. He paused for a moment, then quickly got to his feet. Still at gunpoint, then. He glanced quickly between the guards, assessing them.

"Your resistance will wear off shortly," one of the guards said as he led Sawyer down a corridor. "You may leave this room," he was thrown into a room "when you are ready to join us." He didn't expect the sudden freedom, but it was accompanied by a most unpleasant electric crackling sound. What flowed next was a deluge of information.

_ "'a''b'"_ The voice itself was soothing but obnoxiously loud, and it sounded as if it were drilling directly into his brain. Sawyer cupped both hands over his ears. He could do nothing but close his eyes and bear it.

Other men around him were on the floor, writhing in a similar agony. Every once in a while, the door would open and another man would be thrown in, and every once in a while, a man would stand up calmly and walk out. Sawyer thought that it was strange that the door would be just open like that, and almost went to try it, but then noticed that the drilling loud, irritating voice was actually starting to quiet down. It was gradual, sure, but it was definitely going.

It would be much easier to escape the place when he could feel his brain again. Sawyer quickly scanned the room for Jekyll. No, the man was not here. The voice, now a whisper and mostly replaced with numbers than letters, had stopped being enough trouble to stop him. For whatever reason, he had been left alone in the factory, and Sawyer stepped out the door.

Of course, he couldn't leave without Jekyll. Instead of rushing to the door, as he had thought of doing only minutes ago, he went down the hallway to Bishop's office. As he passed by the window again, a ray of sunlight bounced off of some object and flashed brilliantly around the room. Sawyer realized that it was his own hair which reflected the light.

Well, it didn't matter. The mind control hadn't worked, and Sawyer knew himself to be a free man. But the metal on his head could probably be very convincing. He encountered the man with the glasses in his office.

"James Bishop?" Saywer asked. Bishop nodded and held his hand out. Sawyer shook it.

"Welcome aboard," Bishop said.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Armed men in matching uniforms were never good things, especially when they were shooting at you.

Nemo drew his sword as Mina emerged from a bat swarm. To his side, Nemo saw that Quatermain drew his own guns. Skinner could have been anywhere, and Nemo resolved to mark him off as soon as he could.

The terrain benefited the League, who had some measure of cover in several of the boulders, while the men in black were contesting an open field with limited tree cover. Nemo then looked to assess the aggressors before realizing that they were already attacking, shooting and yelling with wild reserve. Typically, in a battle situation, there is a momentary pause, as each side sizes up the other, before the initial attack. This time, there was none. The black-clad men all fell in and began shooting at once.

None of them came close to hitting anyone, but did force the League to take cover and stay covered. Nemo considered this from behind a particularly large boulder. What where they doing? They sounded like a pack of savages, whooping and hollering and shooting like that. There hadn't been a splash of blood on the boat, either, although many of the bullets were fired from close quarters. It was like they were not trying to hit anyone.

Perhaps the girl Melissa had not been lying after all, and these men really were attempting to control minds instead of killing them—it was at least undeniable that they were seeking to capture instead of shooting to kill. Nemo sheathed his sword to draw out several throwing stars. Good long-range tools for the job. He didn't concern himself with the crossfire, but crouched low and threw them. One, two, three stars thrown, one, two, three men dead. Only…Nemo counted quickly, about fifteen men remained.

"Allan!" Skinner shouted. Nemo glanced up, and noticed that more men in black were now behind the League's front, several already on Quatermain. Nemo turned, drew a pair of guns and began firing. The gun work was normally best left to the sharpshooters, but with Quatermain preoccupied, Nemo felt not shame. He shot two before the third knocked Quatermain out with the back of his gun. Mina quickly was upon the last one, gruesomely ripping out his throat.

Skinner had been a little further back and a little closer to the men in black, and his shouting had shown his presence. The men in black fell upon him. A moment later, they fanned out, and each mimed holding an invisible body in front of their own. Each held a gun at about head level. Any one of them could have had Skinner.

Nemo drew his throwing stars again before realizing that he honestly didn't know where Skinner was. He could have killed any one of the men, but any one of them could mean the star ending a few feet short of its target, embedded in Skinner's brain instead of one of the men's.

He glanced behind him, suddenly remembering those that he had left alive on the other front. The men in black from behind him were rapidly approaching. He took their momentary lack of cover to get around the rock, draw his guns, and rapidly started firing. Shoddy marksmanship; Quatermain would have been ashamed had he been awake. However, most of them were injured enough to stop advancing.

Mina was over Quatermain's unconscious form, baring her fangs as a group of the men drew nearer. Nemo moved to help, wondering if retreat wasn't the best option at this point. They had one more capture, and were rapidly being closed in upon—

Before he reached Mina, he felt a sharp pain at his left leg, which immediately fanned out over his body. The leg had been shot, and the bullet had been electric. Consciousness swam for a moment (Mina was being closed in upon and what could Nemo do about that?), and then gave out on Nemo.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

"Your new quarters, sir," a man in black sneered, and kicked Jekyll into a room.

The brief meal Jekyll had been afforded was enough to keep him alert. He glanced around the room, which had roughly the dimensions of an enlarged shoebox, and about as many features. Three dusty light bulbs hung from strings on the ceiling, each lit, but with no visible means of turning them on or off. Jekyll quickly tried the door which he had been thrust through, but it was locked on the inside.

His stomach suddenly cramped violently, and Jekyll slid to the floor. "_That damn potion,"_ he thought. "_I'll never get out of here alive."_ His body had already begun to shake, and it was already difficult to get his mind off of his potion.

Jekyll lay down on the bed. A few moments later, the door opened, and Jekyll sat up again. "My daughter wishes to formally meet you," Bishop said. His usual brigade of guards stood behind him, holding their guns ready, but not drawn. "It's almost charming how she's picked up the dress and customs of this time period." Jekyll said nothing to his captor, and wished that his hands would stop shaking.

"Do you see that blinking light?" Bishop asked as he gestured to a small box with a light mounted in a corner of the room. Jekyll glanced at it. He had not seen it before. "It transmits images. You are familiar with cameras. This box transmits a series of pictures. So many pictures, in fact, that I at any time can see what you are doing in your room. The guards can as well. Remember you are being monitored. Always, completely."

The girl Christine walked into the room. "Daddy, can I meet him now?" She asked through painted lips. A brief glance reminded Jekyll strikingly of a doll, with painted eyelids, long braided ponytails, and a lacy dress.

"You may," he replied. He bent down and mumbled something in her ear, something that sounded like instructions. "Have fun," he said, and walked out. The guards stayed behind, and the blinking light from the corner reminded Jekyll that, although he had essentially been left alone with the girl, he was never really alone.

"Hi," the girl said, smiling brightly. Her teeth were abnormally strait. "My name is Christine. What's yours?"

"Henry Jekyll," he said. Certainly, she had already heard him sputtering out his name when he was being tortured, but if she wanted to hear it again, Jekyll was not going to complain about it.

"Henry, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said, stumbling over the multi-syllabic words. She seized one of his hands and pumping it up and down. "Do you like video games?" she asked.

"Video…?"

"Daddy said you wouldn't know. I brought some, though."

Out of her bag, she pulled out several cords and wires. Jekyll's mind drifted to how he needed to sleep; _serious _REM sleep, for at least an hour, but was brought back to reality when she began singing. It wasn't particularly good, and it wasn't a song he was familiar with. It was the name that caught his attention.

"Exit the warrior, today's Tom Sawyer, he gets high on you…" She continued singing as Jekyll looked on in amazement.

"What song is that?" he interrupted her.

"I don't even like that song," Christine said, making a face. "Grandpa used to play it all the time."

"What made you think of it?"

"Well, we got him dinnit we?" She asked, smiling. "He's one of ours now. Daddy says that he's our most important ass-et. Have you heard the song? I can play it for you."

She dropped the "video game" wires and started fumbling through her bag as Jekyll sat back in his seat. 'One of theirs?' What had she meant by that? Was he really under their control?

"Here," Christine said, drawing a small device from her pack. It bore a strong resemblance to the device that Melissa had brought, that had also played music and shown information. Christine pulled out a pair of headphones, and Jekyll quickly stood up, toppled his chair over, and took several steps back. Christine looked up in confusion.

"I'm not putting those on," Jekyll said, staring at the headphones.

"Daddy says that he doesn't like my music," Christine said. "He said I have to listen to it with headphones." As she talked, one of the guards stood up and started walking over to Jekyll. Jekyll's arm was twisted painfully behind him, and he was set back into his chair. Christine watched, fascinated.

"You will do as Christine asks," the guard said. Jekyll slowly sat up, glanced again at the headphones, thinking of how much pain they had caused him the last time he had placed a set over his head…but how much more it had hurt to be shocked.

He held out a hand for the headphones, reluctantly placed them over his ears, and waited for a whipcrack of pain to shoot through his head. None came. The music itself wasn't good—in fact, it was downright bad—but it was an incredible relief to hear it instead of the loud crack!

Jekyll listened for exactly four minutes and thirty three seconds as the small device kept track of time. He caught his breath and let the pain in his shoulder subside. "Do you like it?" Christine asked after the song had ended.

"It's…very futuristic," Jekyll said, not quite willing to lie, but not sure what would happen to him if he told her that the music was, frankly, terrible.

"Not to me," Christine said. "Do you want to listen to some more while we play video games?"

"Yes," Jekyll said, glancing briefly at the guards.

Christine pulled out a second set of headphones, placed them over her own ears, and plugged them into the device. The next song was hardly better than the first, and the one after that was bad, and they only got worse and worse. Jekyll supposed that he was simply not used to the style, but the only instrument he was familiar with were the drums, which were used far too much to be beautiful. Not a cello or clarinet in sight! But then, Jekyll supposed even an angelic choir would have sounded hellish under the given circumstances.

"This one's a driving game," Christine said, speaking over the 'music.' "I have to do it because I'll be driving in two years." The screen showed a tract of road, but it was black and smooth. Christine touched the footpad on the far right, and Jekyll experience a moment of vertigo as the screen suddenly took off, as if Christine were really driving.

Jekyll glanced at the guards again, and then back at Christine.

She took her foot off the far right, touched the far left with her other foot, and dragged her right hand down the side of the hand pad. A moment later, she pushed her hand back up in a zigzag patter, and then back down. The speedometer climbed to 60…70…80. Jekyll realized that that was in miles per hour. How fast had Sawyer ever gone? He didn't think more than 50, and even that had scared Jekyll badly. But, of course, Sawyer was captured and Jekyll was forced to comply with the whims of this girl.

"Your turn," Christine said, and handed the wheel over to Jekyll. Jekyll took it into his shaking hands.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

* * *

There was only the slightest nagging at the back of Sawyer's mind that something was not quite right with the way he thought, felt, and acted. It passed very quickly.

Most of the men did not get to talk to Bishop directly, but Bishop had wanted information of Sawyer. Well, damned if he was going to get anything useful out of him. Certainly Sawyer was captured in a way—but he knew that his mind belonged to himself, and that he was clearly still his own person. However, he thought it prudent to pretend to be one of them.

"Most of the new men come from the village," Bishop said. "It's mostly empty now, but you have the honor of being the first of the empire from a different location."

"Yes," Sawyer said, not sure if that was exactly what a brainwashed crony would say, but hazarding a guess.

"Down to business, then, please have a seat." Sawyer fought strongly against his instincts: sitting was weakness, sitting slowed a person down. But it was only himself—armed to the teeth—and Bishop—unarmed. He could kill his adversary the second he got an opportune chance. Tom sat down. "I've heard of your group," Bishop continued. "Your League. But I was unfortunately unable to get much information from my one source. She had a very strong mind for intellectual traps and disobeying instinctual signals—" Bishop seemed to consider this, before shaking his head. "I know that there are five men and one woman, each extraordinary in their own way. Tell me about each."

Sawyer quickly decided that he could only tell trivialities, or even make things up. "Myself, I'm an American secret service agent." He paused, debated how much and what to tell. The numbers sang quietly in the back of his head, like background music. "Allan Quatermain and Rodney Skinner, treasure and large-game hunter and the invisible thief, both of whom have been captured—"

"Yes, it was your idea to have the guards mime holding Skinner's body in front of them, right?" Bishop asked with a smile. In fact, it_ had_ been Sawyer's idea. It had also been his idea for a solution to keep track of Skinner easily. He'd been sharing these ideas with those with authority to use them. The more ideas he shared with Bishop, the more Bishop would trust that he controlled Sawyer. "That was quite brilliant, actually," Bishop continued. "I've heard that the dark-skinned one seemed very flustered."

"Nemo. He's still free. He has a crew, a small standing army."

"Hm. Interesting. Are they trained?"

"I don't know. They fight well enough to be of concern."

"The female?"

"Mina Harker. Also free. She's a vampire."

"Very interesting. So two…one…one…yourself…who is left?"

"Henry Jekyll."

"Ah, yes, Henry Jekyll. I was starting to wonder if he was even a part of the League. I've asked Dr. Jekyll a few questions about you," Bishop said. "Now I must ask you a few about him."

_"What did Jekyll tell this madman?"_ Sawyer considered, but did not speak.

"I've placed him in a somewhat unique situation," Bishop continued, "one in which he has a potential advantage over me." Sawyer stopped thinking about how to kill this man and started paying close attention. "I've placed him through a lie detector, but they have been known to fail occasionally through flukes and technicalities. My mind control, however, has never failed me. Tell me, is Henry Jekyll dangerous?"

"No."

"Then why is he on your League?"

"There was another for a while, but he's gone away."

"Another?"

"His alter ego. Now _he_ had balls. But he's gone now, and it's just him."

"So there's no possibility of him escaping?"

"None at all."

"Perfect." Bishop sat in silence for a minute, then turned back to Sawyer. "Tell me everything," he said.

Sawyer talked for a very long time, but he felt good knowing that everything he was saying to Bishop was either a lie or irrelevant. Who cared exactly how large Nemo's army of crew was? It didn't matter exactly what training Sawyer had received, or most details of Mina's abilities. Upon his dismissal, Sawyer smugly walked back to his new quarters.

Tom Sawyer suited up. He got his weapons into proper holsters. The black uniform wasn't what he was used to, but he felt no desire to tug or pull at them. The freedom from the weight of his usual guns and ammunition was gratifying, and the new guns (charged electronically and with electric bullets) were satisfying.

"Pow," Sawyer said, raising a gun and mimed shooting it, thinking of how awesome it would be when he finally got the chance to kill Bishop. He had considered it during the interview, but the timing wasn't right. After all, he had to keep up with appearances, didn't he?


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

The choice had been the logical one. Mina had only had the opportunity to save one of the others. She tried to stave off the regrets, but that was a difficult thing to do.

"_Well sure you had to choose one of them,"_ Hyde said. _"But this one? Really?"_

"_I don't see how you expect me to take your opinion seriously, you monster." _

_ "Ah, Mina, I had thought we had finished with the name calling? I was just saying, I'm not sure this one was the best choice."_

_ "There were no other options and you know it as well as I."_

The crew had long since crowded around Nemo's unconscious form, tending to him the best they could. Skinner had already been taken, Quatermain was already surrounded. There had been seconds to grab Nemo and leap, as hard and as far as she possibly could with her newly refueled vampire body, and dive deep into the water. It hadn't been long before the Nautilus had pulled them aboard. It was a miracle they hadn't been followed.

There was an excited twittering from the crew. Mina glanced up. Was Nemo awake? Mina pushed through the crowd. Nemo, indeed, had opened his eyes. They looked somewhat blank, but conscious. His wounded leg prevented him from sitting up, but with two words, the crew scattered and left. Nemo turned to Mina and said something in Hindi.

"I don't understand you," Mina replied.

"How…did…we…escape?" he asked. He spoke slowly, not labouredly, but with obvious concentration. Mina knew that Nemo had been drugged, but had never seen the man in such a state before.

"I picked you up and ran," Mina said.

"Skinner?"

"He and Quatermain were taken."

"Sawyer?"

"He was taken before they took Skinner and Quatermain. They took Jekyll too."

"So two and…three and one."

"Yes," Mina said, not really knowing what he was talking about.

"What happened?" Nemo asked, looking down at his leg.

"You were shot," Mina explained, wondering impatiently how long it would be before Nemo got his head back on his shoulders. They needed his intellect, and they needed it now.

"But I'm not dead," Nemo said, and lay his head back down. Mina sighed as Hyde chuckled.

_ "Great choice in rescue, Mina. The others are as good as dead."_


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Skinner was visible as a series of parts: metal cuffs encircled his limbs and showed the outline of the man.

A gun had been placed firmly against the back of his neck and hadn't left since he'd been captured. He'd been handcuffed, but they'd removed them when they had set him on a chair with a gun directly against the back of his head. Skinner understood the paranoia, as he'd slipped away from impossible situations many times before. A matter of a few lax seconds could mean his escape…but there were no lax seconds.

He'd heard a faint clicking as the first of the cuffs was put on his left ankle, then the second on his right. At first, he'd thought that they were tying him to the chair. But it slowly dawned on him that he was free (besides the guns and guards), that the cuffs were just cuffs, no wires or chains held them to each other or to another object. They were locked around him to keep him visible, and nothing more. The League had done quite the same thing by insisting he dressed himself at all times.

"_Bet Quatermain wishes he'd thought of this_," Skinner thought, and despite that he was captured and currently had numerous guns aimed at his head, he cracked a smile. Two over his knees, just above the joint so as not to restrict his movements. One left, then one right. One around his waist. One across his chest. The man who was putting on the cuffs leaned over Skinner to reach around his waist, and his hair was almost directly against Skinner's eyeballs. Skinner could see wires on his scalp, coiled around individual strands of hair. Three cuffs on each arm: shoulder, wrist, above the elbow. The last one, clearly intended for his neck, was never put on.

The power flickered, and then turned off. Both guards gasped, one touched their head and the other ripped off his mask.

"Do you…?" one asked.

"We got to get out of here," the other said. Skinner stood up and ran for the door. It was locked, but after a moment of frantic jiggling, someone from the other side opened it. There, of all people, was Sawyer, his black mask tossed to the ground.

There was no time for words, no "come on!"'s or "get goings"'s. The partially visible Skinner ran for the door and he and Sawyer were out. They were partway down the hallway by the time the electricity turned back on. Sawyer stopped running. Guards started down the corridor.

"Come on," Skinner urged. Sawyer took a few steps with Skinner, then stopped.

"I think I have to…stop you?" he asked, dazed.

Now the path before them was blocked as well.

"Into 'ere!" Skinner called, pulling Sawyer sideways into a room. The room inside was decidedly rich, and Skinner quickly pulled one of the fancy chairs to jam the door. Almost as quickly, the door started being kicked.

"You really should stop this," Sawyer mumbled. "I can stop you. This isn't the plan." He reached for his gun, and held it uncertainly at his hip. Skinner glanced around the room, and then pulled open a desk drawer. Two belts were inside, just like the ones Melissa had worn.

The door was kicked in, and there was no longer room for thought. Skinner fastened one of the belts over the metal around his waist, and one over Sawyer. He pushed the big red button, and Sawyer disappeared. Skinner pressed the same button on his own belt, just as he was about to be grabbed. There was a sickening lurch…and suddenly, no more shouting or confinement. Sunlight streamed down from the now-open air.

"We need to get going," Skinner said. "They could be following us…are you all right in your 'ead?"

"No more numbers," Sawyer said, touching his head.

"Wot?"

"Nothing. I'm fine now. I didn't see any more belts, but we should probably get going just in case."

"Sure. Right after we figure out where the blood 'ell we are."

"I think…" Sawyer began as he glanced at the enormous buildings, thousands of cars, hairstyles, clothing, and murals around him, "the future."


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

It was nearly night time. Jekyll didn't know this by the sunlight, which didn't shine in the room with no outside windows, and he didn't know this by his pocket watch, which had stopped months ago and had never been repaired or replaced.

The only way he knew was that Christine had left.

"Daddy says I have to go to bed at 10:00 tonight," she said, looking at a corner of the screen, which displayed a string of numbers. "Especially since tomorrow night—well, I don't want to spoil the surprise. So I have to leave now."

She paused, as if waiting for Jekyll to respond. He finally mustered up the willpower to say "Okay, good night, Christine."

She giggled. "Call me Krissy," she said, kissed Henry on the cheek, and gathered her games as the guards opened the door with a key. "You need to work on your video game skills," she said before going to the doorway, "You stink at them."

The damn games…they were unimportant. And, considering that Jekyll had been running on a sleepless night, capture, torture, and deprival from his drugs, he thought he'd done quite well. He tried not to think about the driving game—it didn't matter anyways, because Sawyer was the driver. It didn't matter that Jekyll, after not stalling out for once, had gotten up to 20 miles an hour and promptly crashed into a tree. But he'd done well enough at the others to keep Christine temporarily entertained.

The guards seemed eager to leave where they had been sitting for the duration of the afternoon, and actually proceeded Christine out the door. Jekyll thought, for a moment, that Hyde would have seized the opportunity, grabbed "Krissy" around the throat, and—

But that wasn't what Hyde would have done at all. Maybe Tom or Allan or any sane and rational man would have, Hyde would have ripped the guards to shreds long ago. As Christine left, her dress caught in the door. It didn't rip, but the door didn't close. It bounced off of her dress, opened slightly, and started to close again. Jekyll quickly lunged for it, and held it open with the tips of his fingers. He paused, waiting to see if the guards would see that the door was still slightly open.

They did not. But the camera would see…what was Jekyll going to do?

_"Run now, dumbass,"_ the ghost of Hyde whispered to Jekyll.

_ "I can't…I can't run. They'll find me—"_

_"Try!"_

In a second, Jekyll was out the door and running. He ducked into a nearby closet, his heart pounding. He didn't realize until later that he felt absolutely awake at the time, and the craving for his formula was temporarily abated, and they symptoms of withdrawal had gone away for a while.

What would Hyde—no, useless! What would another mortal man do in this situation? Skinner would use his invisibility…but invisibility had many forms. Sawyer had turned invisible himself for a while, infiltrating M's army. All he had needed was a black suit, and all that Jekyll needed was a black suit as well.

Jekyll's heart pounded as footsteps walked past. Two men, talking idly—something about travel. Were they guards? Jekyll had never heard the guards talking to each other before. But what if they needed something from the closet? What if an alarm was raised? In an agony of terror, Jekyll pressed his palms against the walls. The guard's footsteps drew away. Alright, Jekyll either needed a weapon or a disguise…and he hadn't held a weapon since he was a boy. He hadn't needed to. So, then, disguise?

Jekyll glanced through the closet, but saw no hanging garments, no clean (or even dirty) laundry. He wasn't sure if the coast was clear, was tempted to stick his head out the door—but what if someone was there?

_"No one stands still that long that quietly,"_ Hyde's ghost said brashly.

_"I'll take a quick look around—"_

_ "If the coast is clear, walk quickly and listen. But move towards the exit."_

Jekyll slowly turned the door, glanced into the hallway—

No one. He took a few stumbling steps out, tripped over something in the closet. It clanged loudly. Jekyll left the door open and walked quickly the way he had been dragged in.

"_Need a disguise, need a disguise, oh my God what if I'm caught?" _Jekyll broke out into a jog, not able to slow himself down. He turned a corner, three or four guards lingered. Jekyll felt his heart almost stop, and nearly fell over backwards.

"What was—?" The guards suddenly fell silent after the question. Jekyll, as quietly as he could, ducked into a room and tucked himself into a corner. It felt like the hide-and-seek game from hell.

The guards, as a group, turned the corner and left walking. Jekyll quickly got out from the corner and walked to the door—but one of the guards walked in. Jekyll's mind froze, repeating incessantly that he was caught! Caught! Caught! When the guard removed his mask. "Allan!" Jekyll whispered. "How did they get you? Are you…one of…?"

"I'm not. Bishop thinks I'm one of his."

"Oh, thank God. Then you're here to get me out?"

"This isn't an infiltration. I was captured. Along with Skinner."

"Nemo? Mrs. Harker?"

"Still free."

"Do you have a plan, how do we get out of here?"

"I'm working on a plan," Quatermain said slowly. "But you've pretty well ruined it by escaping early."

There was a moment's pause as Jekyll tried to think. "I'm…sorry…but what do we do now? The exit's only a few minutes away, if you could get me one of the guard suits as well—"

"You don't understand," Quatermain said, letting Jekyll's stream of thoughts wilt. "You've messed up everything. You always do. I have to put you back. I can't break you out until I can get everyone out."

"Put me back?"

"If Bishop thinks he has you," Quatermain said, leveling a hand-held gun to Jekyll's chest, "then my plan will work. Don't worry." A guard walked past the door as Quatermain put his mask back on. "You!" Quatermain shouted, drawing in the other guard. "I have an escapee, code 1100001."

"Roger that," the other guard said as Jekyll's heart sank. On some sort of cue, three other guards appeared out of nowhere, each with their own guns. Quatermain nodded and left, leaving Jekyll more confused than ever.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

"Put your guns on the ground," Skinner said. "I can't trust you."

"You can't trust me?" Sawyer asked, taken aback. "I broke you out of there!"

Sawyer had barely glanced at the sights of the people, the cars, and the location. The future…and now he had to worry about mind control. Sawyer and Skinner had ducked into a sweltering grimy alley, and Sawyer's shirt quickly turned damp with sweat. This certainly felt more like a humid American summer than the cool London summers.

"You tried to stop me too, once the power came back on. 's long as you've got those receptors in your 'air, I don't want you armed."

"Listen, Bishop _thought_ I was one of his—"

"Why did you 'ave a gun pointed at me?"

No answer. Sawyer had a reason…he'd felt sure of it, but nothing seemed to adequately explain it now. "The numbers are gone," he said. "But I guess there's no way for me to tell." Sawyer tugged at the metal, but it was fused to the hair.

Moments of silence passed.

"Whatever we do next," Skinner finally said, "I'm going to need some bobby pins first."

"Bobby pins? Why?"

"Well as much as I enjoy runnin' around lookin' like the human zebra…" Skinner said, gesturing to the cuffs around him.

"Well I can get some if you trust me to."

Several of the passerby spared a quick glance into the alley, but no one stopped to talk to Sawyer or to ask questions, such as: why was he talking to himself? Skinner, partially visible, was hidden from view by the trashcan.

"Eh, it's a start."

Sawyer pulled out his wallet. If he'd known that there would have been a fight, it would have been back on the ship god knew how many years ago. But, expecting a recon mission, he hadn't thought to take it out. He pulled out the bills and started counting. "I have seventeen dollars," he said. A full month's paycheck, and most of the money he had in the world.

"Alrigh,' good. Go find a lady's fashion store or something." The bands around Skinner showed that Skinner stood up and turned to face the outside of the alley, watching the people. "You're going to need to take off your shirt."

"My shirt?"

"Yeah. No one's wearing much at all. There are even a few topless females. Actually, a _lot_ of topless females." His tone turned suggestive.

"I can't walk around without my shirt. It's indecent."

"You're in Rome now," Skinner said. "Do as they do."

Sawyer watched a few more pedestrians walk by. Only a few were wearing a shirt (and those "shirts" were strappy little things), and none were wearing pants, the longest shorts seemed to only reach mid-thigh. Blonde, brunette, and redhead seemed to be the exception rather than the rule, because most were colored, and many were—

"Shiny," Sawyer said suddenly. "A lot of their hair looks metallic."

Skinner gazed curiously for a few moments. "Doesn' mean anything," he finally said. "If all of 'em were being mind-controlled, then the rest of them wouldn't jus' walk by 'em like that. Go on, go get some bobby pins." Sawyer stripped off his shirt, rolled up his pants, and rolled his socks into his shoes. He tugged again at the metal in his hair. "Your 'air is good," Skinner said. "You'll blend in more this way, anyways."

Sawyer cautiously stepped out onto the street, feeling somewhat naked and out of place. A few people glanced at him curiously, but there were no prolonged stares or accusations of time travel. He quickly matched the pace of the passerby, but then stopped suddenly. If he wandered too far, he could see himself getting lost. The nearest streets had names—14 and "C." Well, then, he might be able to find this corner at least. He couldn't loose Skinner.

A small, bright pink shop called "Pink Luff" stood across the street. The display showed clothing and accessories, and Sawyer recognized it to probably sell vanity-related items, but it was across the street, and the cars (sleek metal that was radically different than Nemo's car) raced constantly in cross directions.

Suddenly, the cars slowed, and then stopped. A small group of people began crossing the street at the intersection. Sawyer hastened to join the group, and got to the other side. He noticed that a small sign which might come in handy getting back—a "walk" and "do not walk" sign, with the "walk" one currently flashing illuminated.

He ducked into the store Pink Luff. He was greeted by the sight of an older teenager with bright pink ponytails and without a shirt. Sawyer quickly glanced away. "Hi," the topless woman said. Though he didn't see her face, her tone of voice indicated a smile. "Welcome to Pink Love. Can I help you find anything?"

"Um, no, no thank you," Sawyer said, glancing briefly at the girl. He took a few steps into the store before realizing that he was already hopelessly lost. He turned back, locked eyes with the woman, and started talking. "Actually, yes. I was looking for bobby pins?"

The girl smiled. "They're in the back. I'll show you." She walked ahead of Sawyer, and he tried to follow her while not actually looking at her body. "Really out of style, you know," she said. "Haven't seen much of them since they had that revival in the thirties. But hey, we keep everything here." She pulled out a small box. She turned and bounced slightly as she stood up, and the flustered Tom Sawyer glanced at the box instead of the girl. Displayed on the front were the pins. "If this is all you're getting, I can ring you out here," she said.

"Um, yes, that would be, um, yes." He pulled out his wallet and pulled out the bills.

"Retro," the girl said with a grin, eyeing the cash. "My mom had some of that once. Hang on a minute, let me see if we take that." She punched a few buttons on the belt she was wearing, and read a small display screen. "Unbelievable," she mumbled. "We still take cash."

"How much?" Sawyer asked.

"Twenty dollars."

"Twenty!" The box promised only ten of the pins.

"Yeah, I know. As I mentioned, they're out of style. A third as much as you would have gotten for them, say, ten years ago."

"But I only have seventeen."

The girl glanced at Sawyer in surprise, with a brief, annoyed, "why-are-you-even-here-with-only-seventeen-dollars" look crossing her face. This was quickly covered by her enthusiastic saleslady face, and then another break in character: consideration. "You know," she said, "I could really use some p-money for Mother's Day. She loves old stuff like that. So I'll tell you what, I'll take your money and pay the extra three dollars myself. Okay?"

Although Sawyer had no idea what a "Mother's Day" was, besides an obscure church holiday he'd heard of once, he recognized too that it didn't matter. "Sure. Yes."

"Great!" the girl said with a grin. She took Sawyer's money, handed him the box. "Well, thank you for shopping at—"

"Hold on a minute," Sawyer said. "Have you ever heard of a man called James Bishop?"

The girl's smile froze on her face, then slowly drooped. "You mean the serial killer? As far as I know, he's still in prison and rightfully so."

"Is there any sort of…technology…that you've heard of about that? Something that sends signals to his brain?"

"What?"

"Okay, nevermind."

Sawyer left the clerk perplexed, and considered that the belts had been programmed to before Bishop's mind-control had even been invented. Sawyer ignored the semi-nude and entirely nude people (this was the future? It was disgusting) as he walked back across the street, back into the alley. Ignoring the curious stares that he drew for the length of his hair and clothes.

"Good, you got it," Skinner said, ripping into the packaging and pulling out a pin. He clipped off the top and pried the pin apart, and immediately started working on one of the ankle cuffs.

"Then, do we go back?" Sawyer said, glancing at the belts that had made the trip with them.

"Well of course we go back," Skinner said. "We 'ave to. We can' just leave Allan and 'enry there." One of the cuffs popped open and dropped. The pin moved to the next one.

"Well, now that we're 'ere, we should maybe get some provisions."

"We don't have any money. And we don't have any way of getting some."

"We-ell…we can work around that."

"You don't know what sort of security they have," Sawyer pointed out. "You can't just go around steeling things."

Another cuff popped off. "Mos' people aren' even wearing anything. Wot makes you think they 'ave personal security?"

"I guess so."

Another cuff popped off. Skinner was working fast, but this had the potential to take a long time. Fortunately, time was, now, the one thing that the two had a lot of.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

Nemo's crutch rested against the corner, and despite the anesthetics, his leg still throbbed dully with pain. This didn't stop him from being one of the two members of the smallest meeting the League of Extraordinary gentlemen had seen.

"We must either attack directly or attempt to infiltrate their ranks," Mina said.

"A direct attack may be useless," Nemo replied. "They may already have intricate knowledge of our abilities and my standing army."

The meeting room was much quieter and much emptier with only two members present, but it made the discussion move much faster. There was no pointless sniping, no telling off Skinner, and no small talk. Nemo and Mina were down to business. At least, Nemo was. Harker seemed distracted, occasionally glancing off to one side, or allowing a look of disgust or consideration pass across her face. Such emotions seldom referred to the topic at hand.

"The only thing we can do is something they do not expect us to do," Mina replied. "So what would they not expect that we could craft into a plan?"

"They would not expect surrender," Nemo mused. "One of us could get in that way."

"But then we would be captured. Think now!"

Nemo glowered for an instant. "I would like to remind you, Mrs. Harker, that I am not the only league member who must try to use their heads."

"I'm trying," she said, dangerously quietly, and turned away to face the wall where Melissa had left her message. It had been since been scrubbed clean.

"And you must be prepared to either do it alone or wait several days," Nemo added.

"We can't wait."

"Then you need to find the factory, destroy it, and rescue the rest of the League single-handedly."

"Assuming they do not find a way out themselves."

"Yes…but in the meantime, the trail grows cold."

"If we cannot think up a plan—tonight—then I'm going in anyways."

"Mrs. Harker, do not be foolish. You have seen how easily they have captured our best men. They could very well know everything about us by now."

"Then we need to learn more about them."

"You are being stubborn and foolish. We need a plan first."

"What we need, _Captain _Nemo, is information, which we cannot gather by standing around here." Mina stormed out of the room, leaving Nemo with his thoughts and a deep sense of foreboding.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

"Daddy says we can't trust you enough to let you out of those ropes," Christine said as she walked through the door, "but that doesn't mean we can't have fun."

Jekyll glanced up from his chair, praying that the night previous had been the last of the torture. The damn chair thing had shocked more, hurt worse. There had been no more movement from the confines of the chair, no more privacy, no more limited freedoms. He'd been kept awake for the duration of the night, had his formula dangled in front of his eyes, had felt the strong craving arise within him, as powerful as Hyde had ever been…

Jekyll had pulled an all-nighter once during his college days. That time had nearly killed him, and he'd nearly fallen asleep during the test he'd studied so hard for. The day previous had felt much like the day of his test, but with adrenaline staving off the worst of his tiredness. The second night awake was much like the first, but much more intense. He needed sleep so badly—

_ A man on fire burns in the middle of the street as nameless faceless figures in the shadow walk by, too absorbed in themselves to notice or care about the fire—_

"Henry?"

Christine.

Jekyll realized he had briefly fallen asleep.

"Daddy says if you aren't being any fun, that I should go and talk to him," Christine said.

"No!" Jekyll said, his voice louder and more frightened than he had intended to. "No, I'll…I'll be fun. I'm awake now." Christine probably didn't know what Jekyll had gone through during the night, but somehow, Jekyll doubted that she would have cared had she known. She seemed fascinated by displays of violence (obviously never having been on the receiving end of it) instead of repulsed.

"We're going to have a tea party," Christine said, smiling shyly. "Do you like tea?"

"Yes." Never mind how early it was, how hungry Jekyll was, or how tired he was. It was easier to do what Christine asked. His stomach suddenly cramped again, strongly, and he leaned into the ropes, sweating, wishing that he could even have a _sip_ of his elixir. The pain slowly subsided as a guard walked in, cloaked in black and carrying a tea tray. Christine took the tray from him, and he walked out of the room. Two pots of tea were set on the table in front of Jekyll.

_ Back on the Nautilus at last. Mina turned a corner, smiled, opened her mouth to say—_

Jekyll reluctantly dragged himself back into reality, in time to catch the last of Christine's statement.

"—that you would probably want the second one." She poured out some of the second tea pot, and in a heart-stopping moment, Jekyll saw that it was red. "Are you cold?" Christine asked.

It took Jekyll a minute to process her question. The chamomile tea was obviously heated, the second one was not. It looked just like his formula, and Jekyll had, in fact, told Bishop he needed it daily—

Cold?

Jekyll glanced down and saw that his hands were shaking. He was still tied down, still couldn't reach for the red liquid to confirm his suspicions, couldn't drink deeply and feel the deep euphoria for even a minute…but that was why he was shaking in the first place. "No, I'm not cold."

Christine pulled out two glasses and began pouring the tea out.

"Krissy," Jekyll began, "you're…my friend, correct?"

"Of course!" she said, grinning again and showing her abnormally strait teeth. "Are you my friend?"

"Yes, yes of course. Krissy, could you ask your dad if I can be untied?" Christine's smile slowly began to fade. "At least for the duration of our…our tea party," Jekyll began to backtrack. "I know you have guards on the other side of the door—"

"Henry, daddy doesn't change his mind," Christine said, now frowning slightly.

And that was that.

A glass was passed to him. Jekyll could reach out and touch the glass—decidedly lukewarm instead of hot—but could not draw it to his lips. Due to the ropes on his chest, he could not even bend down to lap it up.

_"Like a dog,"_ the ghost of Hyde added_. "Pitiful."_

_"Shut up,"_ Jekyll pleaded with his now-internalized demon. _"I don't have to listen to you anymore."_ And for christsake, he didn't even know for sure that it was his formula!

"Daddy said I could give it to you after the party was over," Christine said, as though reading his mind. "Would you like some sugar?"

"No, no thank you." Thinking about all the ways glucose could upset the delicate balance of chemicals.

"I want to do a toast," Christine said, standing up. Jekyll would have been confused at the inappropriate toast if his apathy hadn't started to set in. "To my daddy, and to all his workers, and to—"

_ The streets of London are crowded, and lights are on brilliant display up ahead, as though some sort of fair is about to take place. The lights grow brighter and brighter. Suddenly, screaming fills the air—_

"Henry!"

The ghost of screams ring in his ears as Jekyll starts awake.

"Cheers," he mumbles, raising his glass slightly before setting it back on the plate. Satisfied, Christine drinks deeply from her own chamomile tea.

It was going to be a long day.

Later, Christine tilted back the glass for Jekyll, and it was indeed his potion. He felt the deep, shuddering calm it offered him, and it only made him all the more sleepy, but Christine got out her music again, and pulled out her games again, and the aftereffects wore off pretty quickly.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

Skinner cursed his non-ambidexterity. It hadn't taken long to remove a vast majority of the cuffs, but two of them were being stubborn: the ones on his right wrist and elbow. The one on his right shoulder had taken several minutes before he could maneuver himself correctly to pop it open, but the others were simply out of reach of his right hand. And his left hand, damn useless thing that it was, would not cooperate.

"Sawyer, I need you," Skinner said. As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He still wasn't sure what sort of help he could expect from Sawyer, who still could or could not be working for Bishop…but the words were out of his mouth.

Sawyer sat against the alley wall, slumped over and shirtless, his eyes closed and the sun winking ominously off his hair. Both of the magical time-traveling belts were crossed over his waist.

"How are you wiff bobby-pins?"

"Well I've picked a few locks, but nothing major or recently."

"Alrigh,' good. I can't reach these las' two wiff my right 'and, so I'm goin' to let you 'ave a crack at it."

"Alright," Sawyer said as he took the bobby pin and peered into the lock, angling it against the sun.

"There are three latches which need to be—" Skinner began.

"I know, I know," Sawyer said. He carefully lowered the bobby pin into the hole, toggled it around.

"Gently, now, I don' know wot these are made of, but it's real delicate stuff."

"All _right,_" Tom said, exasperated. "Don't worry so much."

A few minutes of tinkering later: Click! The elbow cuff popped off. "One more, then," Skinner said, holding up the cuff over his wrist. Sawyer leaned over the cuff, carefully put in the bobby pin—

SNAP!

It was nothing like the muted "clicks" which marked the opening of the previous cuffs. Skinner quickly reached for the cuff, but it was still firmly locked into place. "Shit," Sawyer said.

Skinner angled it so that the abundant sunlight flooded the hole—and it was broken. "You broke it!" Skinner said.

"Yeah…shit, sorry."

"Alright,' give me back the pin. I'll try'n fix it." Wondering if it really _had_ been an accident.

Sawyer sat back against the wall, now looking significantly less relaxed. Skinner sighed. He didn't mean to make Sawyer feel bad…but dammit, he couldn't go out in public even remotely visible.

"I can carry it," Sawyer said after several minutes of silence.

"Carry wot?"

"The cuff. If no one sees you, then it will look like I'm just carrying a hunk of metal."

Skinner sighed, dropped the bobby pin, and gave up. "I wont be able to get any food or anything if I'm attached to you."

"It's the only option we have."

"Alrigh.'" Skinner said. There was a brief pause, and he glance out the alley again. "Well, let's get you fixed up firs.'"

"Fixed up?"

"You need to blend in more. You'd get less attention buck naked than you do wearing your modern clothing."

Sawyer immediately flushed a bright red. "I need my clothes! These people don't seem to care about that, but I do. It's wrong."

"Heh. Don't knock it 'til you try it. I can tell you, I'm a lot more comfortable 'ere than you look. You're sweatin' like a pig."

Sawyer mused over this for a minute. "Why is it so damn hot here?" he finally asked.

"'ey, don' sweat it."

"Skinner, I'm warning you. I'm not in the mood."

"I mean, don' worry about it. All we need to do is rip your pants a lit'le shorter." Skinner glanced back at the passerby. "Mos' people don' 'ave shoes on," he finally said. "Your 'air is kinda long-ish, and it's going to draw attention, but there's nofing we can do about that. Unless you want to cut—"

"No!"

"Okay, jus' a suggestion." Skinner rummaged through the trashcans for something sharp, finally pulling out a shaving razor. "They still use these?" Skinner asked. "Who woulda thought it." In a few swift motions, Sawyer was wearing the shortest shorts he'd ever owned, ending several inches above his knees, and even then they would still draw attention for how long they were.

"I don't feel good about this," Sawyer said, hardly wearing anything at all and acutely aware of it.

"You'll blend right in," Skinner said, but he knew that Sawyer might linger in the alley forever if he were to think about it for too long. Skinner stepped into the street, and Sawyer hastened to follow. Sawyer quickly grabbed the cuff, which appeared to be floating in midair.

No one glanced at the time travelers. As awkward as Sawyer professed to have felt, he looked mostly like any other inhabitant of this era. Not that they knew exactly when this was; no newspapers were being sold, blown down the street, or had been thrown away. The streets were moderately crowded, but Skinner pulled Sawyer to the side of the sidewalk (which felt strange under Skinner's feet, and didn't burn him), and the two walked next to the street. It was disconcerting to have the cars blowing by, but it was better than running into someone.

Skinner initially refrained from talking to Sawyer—after all, people might think he was crazy talking to someone they couldn't see—but he realized that, for some reason, plenty of people were talking with unseen companions.

"Turn on. Add file. One left." A man walked by wearing what could have been considered underwear.

"Okay honey. Yes, I know, I'll get that as soon as—" A girl with striking purple hair walked by, clad entirely with jewelry, a belt, and a few tattoo-like designs. She was alone and talking to no one, but no one looked at her. She and the half-naked man were not the only one doing this. In fact, most people were.

"Is the entire population nutso?" Skinner whispered in Sawyer's ear. "Everyone's talking to themselves."

"I don't know," Sawyer said aloud. No one stared. Sawyer took Skinner to a less populated street, and the two sat on a bench. "We need a plan," Sawyer said. "We need some futuristic weapons, and some way of getting Jekyll and Quatermain out of that fortress. Those belts, I don't think that they—"

"I'm going to have to ask the two of you to clear out," a voice said from behind them. Sawyer turned around casually, but Skinner froze to the spot. Two? To any passerby, it should have appeared that Sawyer had just been talking to himself.

"Construction, and all that. You know how it is. What're your names?"

Skinner quickly turned around and stood up. As he did so, he remembered the bloody cuff still attached to his hand, remembered that it would appear to be levitating in an arc. But the owner of the voice wasn't looking at Skinner's cuff—he was looking directly at Skinner.

"My name is Tom," Sawyer said quickly.

Skinner glanced the man over. He wore fluorescent orange clothes with a "construction" inscription across the front of his hat. Over his eyes, he had a bright red pair of glasses. "Yeah? Nice to meet you, Tom. What's your friend's name?"

Skinner quickly glanced around. No one else was even remotely nearby enough to be mistaken for Sawyer's friend. Impossible as it seemed, this man could see him. And when Skinner had turned his head to examine the street…well, the man's eyes had glanced down to examine Skinner's body. _All_ of Skinner's, very naked, very sweaty body. "Rodney," Skinner said definitively, cringing slightly, waiting for the look to pass over the man's face, waiting for him to realize that Sawyer was carrying a ghost around with him.

"Nice to meet you too," the man said, grasping Skinner's hand and shaking it. The motion was unexpected; Skinner hadn't had his hand shaken in years. "My name's Joe." Skinner stared at the man's eyes. How could he see him? Noticing him staring, the construction man touched his glasses. "I would take them off, but you know how the new regulation codes are—especially after that Smitneiz incident."

"Y—Yeah," Sawyer said, apparently rapidly adjusting to the knowledge that his invisible companion was, somehow, quite visible to the construction-man Joe. A sudden, paranoid thought struck Skinner: could everyone see him? He felt suddenly ashamed to not be wearing clothes.

"Hey, listen, are you two an item?"

"A what?" Skinner asked.

"You know, together. Dating."

"No!" Sawyer said quickly, shock clearly passing over his face. "Of course not!"

"Okay, okay," the man said, seemed to be taken aback by Sawyer's shock. "Just askin.' That's all."

"We were just leavin,'" Skinner said quickly, not sure he liked were the construction man's line of questioning was headed. Skinner grabbed Sawyer by the wrist. Sawyer jumped at the unexpected touch, but quickly regained his composure and the two walked off. Skinner glanced behind himself, once, saw another construction man approach the first.

"—odd couple."

"That one there?"

"No, both of them."

Most of the conversation was lost over the distance, but Skinner saw that the second man didn't have the same glasses that the first did—did that maybe have something to do with it? Well, it didn't matter now, the poor sap would probably be thought of as seeing things. Skinner returned his attention to where he was walking, about to make a comment about the state of the future, but Sawyer was staring strait ahead, the most bizarre look over his face. "Is that…" Sawyer, now, was speaking.

"Is wha?"

"Her," Sawyer said simply, and took off running through the crowd.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

As Mina stepped into the drawing room, Nemo turned from the piano and caught sight of Mina in her battle garb. Mina could see his blood pressure start to rise.

"Mrs. Harker," he sputtered, "I will not have you running off without a plan!"

It really was an unfortunate set of circumstances. Had Mina left her room a few minutes sooner, she would have missed Nemo entirely. Had she lingered a moment longer, she would have heard him at the piano organ, and known to take a different route to exit. "We need more information," Mina said distantly. She touched Nemo's shoulder. "I'll be back soon."

Nemo whirled around and stood up, completely ignoring his ornamental cane (which had long since replaced the crutch) which stood to the side of the piano. "I don't pretend to know how Melissa has changed you," he said, "but while Jekyll's changed for the better, _you_ are acting exactly as he has when he was _least_ in control of himself! You are not prepared to fight, either with him _or_ with an adversary."

"You're wrong," Mina said shortly, and walked out of the room. Nemo quickly grasped for his cane and began to limp after her. "I've never been more prepared to fight in my life," she added. Mina could hear Nemo's blood start to pound through the physical exertion, and could distantly smell fear. She didn't realize until later that she had already become more instinctual than rational; more animal than human. She doubted that Nemo, even at his best, could have stopped her. "Goodbye, Nemo," Mina said. Nemo grasped for Mina, but her body broke to pieces as she became one part of a bat swarm. Through the halls, terrifying several crew members, a brief stop at a few doors to reassemble long enough to turn a handle. Then, finally! She was in the night air.

She paused a moment as a human under the full moon, leaning over the side of the ship, feeling extremely alive. The brisk sea air tasted crisp and clean, strength surged through her body, and she even felt giddy. She dove over the side of the ship, glided for what seemed like miles, and then started to descend to the water when she again dispersed her body into bats. Hyde, throughout the events, said nothing. Well, then, Nemo was obviously wrong, because speech was all that Hyde had on Wilhelmina Harker! Perhaps he didn't dare talk. Mina felt able to kill anything. She was immortal after all, immortal!

On land, Mina reformed herself and immediately began walking. She could smell the town on the path; could smell the chicken farmer who had passed by no more than half an hour ago, a baker about midafternoon, a gaggle of women in the morning. Countless others had passed over during the day. The night previous had been entirely empty, save for one drunkard, probably trying to find his way home. All of them went from left to right. None returned from past the building where Mina had almost been captured.

A consistent stream of metal floated by, quite out of place in this obscure village. It was obviously the metal in the hair of those whom Bishop controlled. Mina followed the smell, expecting to be led to the fortress. . Minutes passed quickly, as the world had long since slowed to a crawl to Mina's eyes. And, she found herself at a plant. A factory of some sort. Useless! Mina smashed her hand through a tree. Both her tree and her hand broke. Her hand healed; the tree did not.

_"Why a factory?"_ Hyde asked. _"Why here?"_

"Shut up!"

But Mina looked at it, thought it over again. Why was there a metal factory in the middle of nowhere?

_"There's another trail,"_ Hyde insisted.

_ "From the back door into the woods. I know."_

As Mina followed the trail, she remembered that she wasn't supposed to be talking to Hyde…was supposed to be setting the example that she was too dignified for that. And why had she left the ship anyways? Nemo could have been right…was she being manipulated?

She could feel Hyde about to speak, but there was a smell. A new one, carried over by the breeze. A cluster of people, out in the early night, and one of them was…

_"Jekyll_," Hyde said quickly. _"I would recognize that scent anywhere."_

And indeed, it was. But how was he out? He was obviously under mind control, but Mina could still capture him back. Even if he was kicking and screaming, Mina knew that she could.

Mina dove for a high tree limb for cover. Wait, they would smell her! But they wouldn't. Just because she could now hear their approaching footsteps, smell what each of them had eaten earlier, and could see their clothing's color against the moonlight didn't mean that they would notice her at all. She was invincible.

They moved away from her, towards the factory. The path was well beaten. A small girl went first, chattering away, excitement radiating off of her body. Jekyll came next, a small amount of dread emanating from him. He walked slowly, stumbled often…

_ "He hasn't slept in several days_," Hyde said._ "And there's no metal in his hair."_

"Well I know that," Jekyll said quietly. Mina started, but then realized that he had probably been talking to the girl, who was talking nearly nonstop to him. Jekyll grunted in pain clutching his stomach and leaning against a tree, but righted himself after a moment and continued, shaking slightly.

Behind the two, a brigade of guards walked, armed with guns and gadgets. Underneath their black hoods, Mina could hear small sparks of electricity, currents which undoubtedly went strait to their brains. But from Jekyll and the girl…nothing.

Mina quickly moved to signal him. She dropped her scarf in the middle of the path they walked. "Krissy, I'm very tired," Jekyll said to the girl pleadingly. "I'm starting to see things—hear things— that aren't there. I haven't slept in—"

The girl found the scarf, picked it up and shook it off. "Ooh, Henry, look!" she exclaimed. Most of her sentences were exclamations unto themselves.

"What is it?" Jekyll asked, glancing up from the path wearily. The guards were fairly far behind Jekyll, but close enough for him to know that they were there. So Jekyll was under threat of death to…what? Why was he here? Why was he trying to reason with the girl instead of the guards? Mina strained to think.

"It's a scarf."

Jekyll quickly glanced around into the woods. It was useless; Mina was perfectly hidden. Jekyll glanced dumbly at the scarf as the girl Krissy wrapped it around her own throat. Mina moved back to the guards, trying to figure out how to best kill them one at a time. But Jekyll, again began to speak.

"Christine—"

"Krissy!"

"Krissy, yes, of course. Krissy, seeing as you are Bishop's daughter, he must care very much about you, right? Then why is he having me spend time with you instead of spending time with you himself?" Mina froze in her movement and listened. The girl was important to Bishop? Then why the hell hadn't Jekyll taken her hostage and already escaped?

_ "Because he doesn't have a spine."_

It was true. Mina glanced back at Jekyll, who had stopped talking and touched his head.

"Daddy likes me a lot," Krissy said, biting her lip, "but he's busy a lot and—"

"Hey!" one of the guards shouted. A shot was fired, and Mina felt a moment of hot pain in her shoulder before it regenerated. Well, then, she had been spotted. There were no moments of consideration or planning. These men worked for Bishop. Bishop cared for his daughter. Attack her. The guards were moving towards Christine, but Mina beat them to it before she spared it a second thought.

Mina stood erect, even primly, behind Christine, one hand on Christine's shoulder and a knife at her throat. Jekyll stood dumbly in the path, staring at Christine, then at Mina. "Get out of the crossfire" Mina said. "_Idiot,"_ was added in her mind, but Mina didn't know if it was Hyde or herself who felt such contempt for the man. Jekyll quickly moved to just behind Mina. The guards froze.

"What do you want?" One of the guards asked. One of the group broke off and began to circle around Mina, trying and failing to escape her notice. Christine began to whimper. She lunged forward towards the guards, directly into the knife. Surprised, Mina drew the knife away, and Christine took a few quick steps towards the guards. Mina caught the girl quickly, and dug her teeth into Christine's neck. Within moments, Christine had passed out from blood loss and Mina held the girl in her arms. She withdrew her teeth, resisting the urge to continue sucking until the girl was out of blood altogether.

_ "Get going now_," Hyde said_. "They wont shoot at you if you have Christine."_

"She's a small girl," Jekyll said from behind Mina. "She wont cover us both."

Mina quickly thrust Christine's body into Jekyll's arms, and put the knife to Christine's throat again. "You!" she shouted, pointing to the man who was circling. "Back with the group!" She waited for him to comply. She tried, again, to think of what to do next, but found thinking difficult when blood was pumping all around her…

_ "Ask for the other three back,"_ Hyde urged Mina.

"Who all has been captured?" Jekyll asked. Mina turned and looked at Jekyll, suddenly realizing that he was responding to Hyde…who he shouldn't be able to hear! But in the moment her head was turned, a shot was fired. This one shattered her kneecap, driving her to the ground in agony. She felt it heal, but too slowly…

_"Get up and run!"_ Hyde urged her as the group started moving in.

Jekyll quickly slung Christine over his back, as though he were about to give her a piggy-back ride, and started running. In a moment, Mina was up and her vision turned red and a surge of energy shot through her. Then—

Rocking. Waves crashing. Blood in the air…but diluted in salt. Clear sky, much later at night. Her superhuman sensitivities seemed to have vanished. Jekyll was talking.

"You know as well as I do that I can't stop taking the stuff."

_ "But without me there?"_

"It doesn't matter. You know that!"

_ "Hang on. She's awake."_

"Mrs. Harker?" Jekyll quickly leaned forward over Mina. She vaguely remembered her expedition to rescue him, had blacked out somehow after Jekyll and Hyde had begun speaking where Jekyll shouldn't hear Hyde at all…

Mina sat up, saw that she was on a small rowing boat. Jekyll had stopped rowing, and Christine's limp form was on the boat as well. "You should rest," Jekyll said nervously. "You went through quite a lot back there—"

_ "Don't worry," _Hyde interjected._ "She doesn't remember a bloody thing about it."_

Jekyll pressed his lips together and turned away for a second. "Good," he said to the night air.

"How are you…talking to him?" Mina asked.

"I think I'm hallucinating," Jekyll said, leaning back and taking the oars again. "It only makes sense I would hallucinate about him."

Mina tried to decipher this, but was too tired to press further. "But you are the one who needs rest," Mina said to Jekyll, putting her hands over Jekyll's at the oars. "I'll row for a while. It wont take too long for Nemo to find us." Suddenly paranoid, she turned around. "Are we being followed?"

"No," Jekyll said quickly.

_"Don't worry, you killed the lot of them,"_ Hyde said gleefully.

_ "Did I? Or did you?"_ Mina responded.

_ "Doesn't matter, does it? They're off our trail."_

_ "You used me. You monster!" _

_ "Quit your whining. I got back Henry for you, didn't I?."_

"Please stop," Jekyll said. "Mina, I can't hear you. This is giving me a headache."

"Sleep now," Mina said as she started rowing. She realized that what Hyde had done to her had been bad…but she felt full of blood to bursting, and it was a damn good feeling. Jekyll closed his eyes, and a moment later, fell forward, fast asleep on Mina's lap. She had no visible reaction at the action, but felt an unexpected warm glow.

"_You really do have feelings for him, don't you?" _Hyde asked.

"_Of course not,"_ Mina replied.

"_You're lying to yourself. You don't have to tell _me_ about it. I was just letting you know."_

After a few minutes of rowing and rocking, the _Nautilus_ surfaced silently beside the boat. "Wake up," Mina said, shaking Jekyll's shoulder. He stirred slightly and glanced around.

"Where's the busfair?" he asked, then fell back into Mina's lap. As if suddenly realizing where his head had landed, he sat up. "Sorry," he mumbled. Nemo's crew appeared on deck, and several hauled Jekyll aboard. Mina picked up Christine's still limp body and joined them. Nemo stood waiting inside, not asking for an explanation just yet, but looking as though he would need one soon.

Jekyll accepted support from one of the crewmen as he stumbled down the stairs, but couldn't make it all the way to his room. He collapsed on a couch in the middle of the hallway. Within moments, his eyes were dancing under his eyelids as he dreamed deeply. Mina began down the stairs with Christine, and Nemo grasped the rail and limped down afterwards. "Mrs. Harker," he said. "An explanation, if you please."

"Certainly, captain Nemo," Mina said. "You were right."

Although she had very few explanations, she had a lot of experience to convey. And, of what she had experienced, she told Nemo everything.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Quatermain lay on his new bed in his new shared room, staring at the ceiling.

As much as he wanted to believe he was in control, recent events of late were starting to make him wonder. Why wasn't Bishop already dead? The man was a genius, but certainly not a mastermind. Why hadn't Quatermain escaped on the numerous times he could have done so? Why had he returned Jekyll to Bishop's control? For each of these, he felt a strong complacency, and that was what worried him the most. He felt strongly that they were the right thing to do, but that was no longer enough. He needed a _reason._ But there was none. After that brief power-outage (the generator had kicked in almost immediately afterwards, and the so-called "solar panels" were now installed with a wind barrier so that they would not blow over again), Quatermain had immediately tried to escape. He had stopped as soon as the power was on again.

Could it be that he wasn't in control after all? Quatermain reached up to his hair, what remained of it anyways, and felt the strands of wire which encircled some of the strands. He sat up. "You there," he said to his roommate. The two hadn't exchanged more than a couple dozen words for days now. "What's your name?"

"Stephen," the man said. His thick, late-twenties hair flashed brilliantly as he stepped through the sunlight. Quatermain knew that his did the same now. "Stephen Morris." The man was one from the village who had been captured.

Quatermain steeled himself to confirm his own suspicions. "Steve, are your mind control wires working properly?"

The man glanced down, then at a wall. "You know we're not supposed to be talking about—"

"Mine are not. At least, I don't think they are."

Stephen glanced at the door before speaking in a hushed whisper. "To tell you the truth sir, mine haven't been working since I've gotten here. I'm a free man. I'm just following orders until I get a chance to escape."

"That's very interesting. Mine aren't working either, and in quite the same way. But tell me, you were sent on an outdoor mission to capture myself and what remains of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. It was chaotic. Why didn't you run then?"

"Well, I _was_ pulling my punches a bit—"

"You knocked out—the one with the turban—with one of your blowdarts."

"Yes, well…" Stephen glanced at the floor and struggled for an excuse.

"Why didn't you run during the battle? Why can't we run now? We are both free men, are we not?"

"Yes, of course! I could have run at any time."

"But you came back instead."

"I didn't get a chance to run." Stephen was now getting visibly distressed. "Quit badgering me now. I'm working on it. I know what I'm doing."

Another man entered the room, just another unnamed inhabitant of the shared bedroom. Stephen mouthed the words "don't tell," and then walked out of the room. Interesting. Very interesting…and a similar line of rationalizations he had taken when he had turned Jekyll in. It seemed ridiculous when another person said it, but it had made so much more sense earlier.

Quatermain made a final test. He could no longer trust his own mind, but knew one thing for certain: that he had to kill Bishop. He picked up his gun and walked to the door, his own mind kicking and screaming that this was a bad idea. A searing headache suddenly shot through his head. Quatermain continued on anyways. Bishop was not in his office, as that was currently full of guards waiting for Sawyer and Skinner's return, but he would be in a room fairly nearby. "_What am I doing?"_ he demanded of himself._ "Just because Bishop is dead doesn't mean any of his cronies will stop being on his side. Hell, even I will still be on his side. I can't kill him. Wait until later. Just lay low a while—"_

Not a chance. Quatermain managed to step into the room Bishop was in, reached for his gun…couldn't get it out of its holster. His hand went numb. "I was about to call for you," Bishop said, glancing briefly up from his desk. His voice shook, and he looked as though he had been crying.

"I came to kill you," Quatermain responded. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them, but his mind had somehow twisted to "throwing Bishop off from his real plan."

"Of course you did," Bishop said, standing up suddenly. "You and everyone else here." He walked over the Quatermain, stood in front of him, and yanked out a strand of Quatermain's hair. "But so long as _these_ are on your head, you are under _my_ control. No matter what your mind is telling you otherwise." His voice climbed in passion, in anger. "So you will answer my questions, completely and fully. You will tell me _how could this have happened._ How could they have taken my daughter?"

Underneath his distressed exterior, Quatermain secretly felt smug. He was quite certain that it was a small omission of fact on his part that had led to Jekyll's escape. "Harker is a vampire," Quatermain said. "It was almost certainly her who took out all your guards."

"I was told that she could fly and take blood," Bishop seethed. "There was no mention that she could take out an elite team of guards. Christine had been looking forward to a nighttime walk for quite a while now…" his voice tapered as he was apparently talking to himself. "But I don't think I would have let her, if I'd known there was a chance…"

Quatermain felt a moment of confusion. How _had_ Mina done that? She was a killer, and an accomplished one at that, but Quatermain knew what the team sent to watch Jekyll was capable of. Then, how had she done it? "They…wouldn't be able to see her under your heat-seekers," Quatermain mused. "She's dead." But the answer didn't seem satisfactory, and Quatermain wondered if even he could speculate how she had done it.

"Is she silent as well? Everyone makes _noise_." Bishop threw a coffee cup against the floor, and pounded his desk. "They took my daughter."

"They aren't going to hurt her," Quatermain said quickly. "They probably are just going to use her as a bargaining tool."

"For you and Sawyer and Skinner. Yes. Well, the latter two are gone now, but I have a group of guards waiting for their return." Bishop turned and began to pace. "Of course the League's powers would be a terrible advantage to loose, but I would abandon my entire plot for Christine's safe return."

"Well I don't know if that's necessary—"

"Of course it's unnecessary. In fact, I doubt that I will necessarily have to give up control over the League's powers." Bishop regained his composure. "Now, Quatermain," he said. "Mr. Sawyer must have neglected to mention something about Mrs. Harker. What has changed in her since the last time she went to battle?"

"She was raped," Quatermain said. "And…_something_ happened to her. She doesn't talk about it." Quatermain briefly explained their recent encounter with Mina from the future, who now goes by the name "Melissa." Quatermain carefully watched Bishop's expression as he went through the story, and was surprised to see nothing but faint confusion. Quatermain tried to silence himself, but could not stop the words from spewing from his mouth. His mind frantically tried to stop himself even as it insisted that it was a good idea to talk, although the information seemed unimportant. However, he understood that he could no longer tell. His mind truly was no longer his own, and he could no longer trust his body, his instincts, or his reason. His only thought, the one thing he knew to be absolute truth, was that Bishop had to die.

The only way that he could even remotely hope to strike back at his captor, Quatermain decided, was to do something that neither he nor Bishop could know if it were a good or a bad thing. Something completely unexpected as a random shot in the dark, and hope it worked out.

"Hm…" Bishop said after Qutermain had stopped talking. "That was…a bit unexpected. Although, I suppose in it's own way, not so much." He shook his head. "That Melissa." Bishop thought for a moment. "As my only hostage, you are too important to let go in the way I have before."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to have to increase the intensity of the electrowaves directed towards your brain. Quite apologize, but you know how it is. Stay here." Bishop passed Quatermain on the way out the room, and Quatermain again tried to draw his gun to shoot the man in the back, but he suddenly felt faint, so much that he grabbed the desk for support.

A few moments later, the numbers came flooding back. Quatermain fell to the ground as his head felt ripped open, and a few moments later, he was gone.


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Even as he ran, Sawyer hoped that what he'd seen didn't mean what he thought it did. Mina—although he supposed she was now called Melissa—strolled down the street, wearing next to nothing and blending in perfectly now. Her hair, decidedly lengthened since the last time they'd met, shone brightly against the setting sun. Mina got onto a very large automobile; it was large enough to hold many people, and many people were on it. Sawyer hopped on after her.

"Hey! You need to pay," said a man behind the wheel as Sawyer started down the narrow aisle. Sawyer glanced blankly at the man.

"I've got it," Melissa said, and flashed a card in front of a screen. A small beep came from the device, and the driver looked happier as he turned and began driving. Sawyer nearly fell over at the unexpected movement. "Let's take a seat, shall we?" Melissa asked. Her voice sounded far different than it had upon their first meeting, but Sawyer supposed that she had disguised it to differentiate it from Mina. She now sounded almost exactly the same as Mina did in his time.

Sawyer glanced quickly around the bus, but couldn't tell if Skinner had managed to get on. He didn't see the telltale cuff anywhere. But, well, Skinner could probably manage on his own. Sawyer took an aisle seat next to Melissa. "You blend in quite well," she said, eyeing Sawyer over. "And I'm certain it's killing your Victorian sensibilities. But down to business—you know who I am? Skinner told you, of course."

Sawyer nodded ascent.

"But how did you get those belts?" she asked. "Who else came with you? Judging by your hair you were captured."

"I escaped capture, yes," Sawyer said. "No one came with me."

"Hm? No one you want me to know of at any rate," Melissa said. "It's been many years since I've last seen you, and I understand why you may not trust me."

"You said metallic hair meant mind control," Sawyer said. "Why is your hair metallic?"

"Yours is as well. Besides, there are no sources of broadcasting around here yet. Much like you I was captured…and as you may have noticed, it is extremely difficult to get it out. Besides, here and now, metallic hair is the fashion. It escapes much more unnoticed here. I'm sure you have many questions," Melissa added to the blank look on Sawyer's face, "and I certainly have many answers. But I must ask you to wait until we get back to the apartment."

Suddenly, a bare foot stepped quite hard on Sawyer's hand. Sawyer whirled around to see—nothing. Then Skinner _had_ gotten on the bus.

Good. He would need all the help he could get.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

One dying hostage, a doctor on the brink of death for the second time in two months, and an out-of-control vampire. It was times like these that Nemo was thankful that he had his crew.

Of course, each of these were somewhat hyperbolic. Jekyll had found enough strength to, at some point during the night, drag himself back to his room from the hallway couch. Mina had given the girl a blood transfusion from one of Nemo's crewmen. But Mina really was starting to shape up to be a wildcard, although she had made a vague mention that she knew what had happened, and it would not happen again. Her behavior, however, was erratic enough to be that of another person altogether.

But three of the League were in Bishop's grasp, and every one of the current League was incapacitated in some way. The night of rest had immensely helped Nemo, but it meant more time's passage between the captures and when they would look for them. Fortunately, Mina had grabbed a bargaining tool. Fortunately, too, that no one had attempted to attack the Nautilus, although Nemo felt certain that Bishop now knew very well where it was. Boats had been patrolling overhead for most of the night, each undoubtedly equip with a SONAR system of some sort.

The girl was awake. What had Mina said the name was? Christine, yes. Nemo walked into the holding room. Christine lay on the floor, probably still woozy from the drugs she had been infused with for the blood transfusion. A crewman followed Nemo in, set down a tray of food for her, and left.

"Who're you?" the girl asked. Her dress was somewhat ragged, and would probably need to be replaced soon. Nemo mentally added that to his mental to-do list.

"My name is Captain Nemo," Nemo said. Christine frowned, sat up, and pushed herself to the back of her cage.

"Daddy says you're the biggest threat," she said, looking at the floor. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

"Your father is alive and well," Nemo replied.

"Is he here?"

"No."

"Is Henry here?"

"Yes."

"Good. Bring him here."

Nemo frowned. "He is recovering now."

"Bring him here!"

Nemo dropped to a knee and stared at Christine in her eyes. She cowered at the back of her cage, apparently reacting to the expression of seriousness on Nemo's face. "Christine, as long as you are a guest on my ship, you will not order me. Ever. You will do as I ask, when I ask it. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, okay," she said, staring at the floor.

Nemo stood up again, thinking briefly of his own two children—ah, but that memory was painful. Nemo pushed it aside for later consideration.

"Recovering from what?" Christine asked.

Nemo glanced at her strangely and tried to think if she was seriously confused or just being facetious. "Henry is very tired," Nemo said finally. "He needs to rest."


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

"It's a funny thing, time travel," Melissa said as she led Sawyer through the largest apartment complex Skinner had ever seen. "The time stream had compressed earlier, and I was always fighting the clock. But now, we have all the time in the world."

"Well that's great," Sawyer said as Melissa opened the door to her apartment. "Because I have a lot of questions, but we need to get back to 1899 to—"

"We? You and your unnamed companion?" The door shut behind them. Skinner listened at the door, waited for them to walk away, and then walked in the door. He glanced only briefly at the wonders of the future's leisure technology.

"…year is this?" Sawyer asked from the kitchen.

"About four hundred years from your time."

"Four hundred!"

"Incredible, isn't it?" Melissa walked into the living room, and shouted over her shoulder into the kitchen. Skinner thrust the cuff behind the curtain. "Hang on a minute, ill you? I need to make a call."

Skinner ran for the door she was headed to, stepped in, and stood behind a couch. Melissa locked the room behind her. She picked up a small plastic thing which she put in her ear and looked nothing like a telephone. Nonetheless, she dialed on a pad and Skinner heard it ringing on the other line.

"I have him here."

"Then you have your portable device running?" Came a muted voice.

"Of course," Melissa said, reaching behind her and flipping on a switch.

"And your own wires are still retaining charge?"

"Yes."

"Good. Distract him until he is affected." The line cut out. Melissa sat a moment, thinking. "Sawyer, could you come in here?" She shouted, and started removing what clothing she had.

"I think something's wrong," he said as he stepped into the room. Skinner watched, horrified but unable to do anything about it. If Melissa was somehow retaining a charge, then it would be useless to destroy the device. He cast his eyes around wildly, and they fell on the scissors at the dresser.

Melissa flipped the lights. Skinner went for them.


	33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

"Jekyll."

The voice cut through a haze. Knocks at the door.

"Jekyll, come on. We need you."

Jekyll shook his head. "You don't need me," he said.

Nemo walked into the room. Jekyll quickly threw the bed covers over himself. Nemo raised an eyebrow, and Jekyll suddenly felt ashamed. It had felt nice to lie on the bed with his bottles of potion nearby, taking a sip and sleeping whenever he wanted.

"Get dressed and join us at the meeting room. It's almost 11:30."

Jekyll glanced at his pocketwatch, which was still frozen at 6:43. "Yeah, yeah I'll…I'll be right out 'n all that."

"How much of this did you take?" Nemo asked, kneeling to pick up one of the empty vials.

"A…some. Quite a bit. I'll be right out."

Without a word, Nemo picked up the box of vials and walked out of the room.

Jekyll watched it go wordlessly. After a pause, he stood up and ran for the door, just as it locked from the outside.

"Nemo!" Jekyll shouted, pounding on the door. "Let me out!" No answer. Jekyll sighed and got dressed. This wasn't disastrous; the days where he kept all his potions in one box had since passed. He had at least another five or six about his room. A few minutes later, the door opened again, and Mina stood at the door. Jekyll suddenly felt ashamed of himself. Not only did Mina know how hopelessly hooked he was, but Hyde knew as well. And, Jekyll felt certain, Hyde was laughing.

"Nemo has taken the liberty of hiding your elixir," Mina said, "And still wishes to know if you are to join us." Jekyll nodded at the ground and followed Mina out.

"Christine has not stopped asking for you since she has woken up," Mina said after a moment of silence.

"Yeah," Jekyll said. Not quite sure what to do with his hands. "She has…taken a liking to me."

Silence after that, all the way to the room. Jekyll glanced at Mina once, and noticed that she was actually blushing. What on earth could have brought that on?

"Dr. Jekyll," Nemo said upon their entrances. "If we are through playing games?" Jekyll felt the boiling resentment. He wasn't playing games, he was addicted, and Nemo had known that when he'd first had Jekyll kidnapped and brought him aboard the ship.

"Why do you need me here?" Jekyll asked.

"We need blueprints," Nemo responded. "Christine has intricate knowledge of the interior of her father's factory."

"I don't know how to do that," was Jekyll's immediate response. Even though he wanted to check on Christine, and see how she was doing…he was certain to mess up the blueprints idea. "Surely one of you can—?"

"It's not all the same to us," Mina interrupted. "Christine currently remembers me as 'The Freaky Vampire Lady' who captured her and sucked her blood."

"I see how she could think that, but certainly Nemo could…?"

Nemo glanced at the wall. "Christine doesn't see fit to talk to me." Was that embarrassment?

Jekyll sighed, glanced at the holding area. He reminded himself that this time, the tables were turned, that _she_ was the one being held captive. He didn't have to play her games, obey her whims, or act like he enjoyed her company. "Okay."

One of Nemo's crew appeared, carrying a notebook. "Talk about the structure of the building," Nemo said. "Talk about how each room connects to the next. Ask if she knows where any of the other three are being held. Don't worry about remembering any of it; notes are being taken." Jekyll nodded, steeled himself, and stepped into the room.

"Henry!" Christine said from her cage, a grin breaking out over her face. "Where have you been? I missed you!"

Her excitement at seeing her friend seemed genuine. Jekyll repressed a shudder.

"Hello Krissy," he said. "How are you?"

"I don't like it here," she mumbled. "Is that scary man going to come back?"

"No," Jekyll said, wondering exactly what it was that had happened between her and Nemo.

"Can we play a game?"

"We can play later," Jekyll said. "I want to talk to you first."

"I want to play a game."

"I know you wanted to show me around the fortress, but your father wouldn't let you."

"Yeah. That's why we went to the factory instead."

"Yes. But could you describe the fortress to me?"

"It's really big and mostly gray on the outside—"

"Yes. But the rooms. The one I was in led to a hallway. There was also a broom closet in the hallway, and at least two empty rooms, but what else was in the hallway?"

Christine was surprisingly cooperative, perhaps gratified to be getting the attention that she had been starved of for the past few hours. She spoke unreservedly. Perhaps her father had never told her why she couldn't let the enemy know about the intricate details of her father's base of operations. "—and above that is a bathroom and a closet, which—"

"Hang on a moment, Krissy," Jekyll said after nearly an hour of speech, standing up and walking out the door. There, Nemo and Mina were apparently in conversation. "Nemo," Jekyll said. Nemo turned to look at Jekyll. Jekyll thought that his appearance would tell everything, as he was flushed and covered with sweat, and his hands were again shaking. "I need some of my potion. I can't concentrate without it."

"You cannot continue to feed this addiction—"

"He's not exaggerating," Mina cut in. "If his alter-ego is to be believed, he is actually understating. 'Helpless without it, the spineless worm,' is his exact words." Jekyll flinched at the unexpected input from his alter ego. Had she told Nemo, then? It sounded as if he knew.

"Very well," Nemo said. He left through the door next to the hallway, and returned from the opposite door a minute later. He handed Jekyll a half-vial full.

"Thank you." Jekyll took it gratefully, let it linger within himself, let himself grow calm again.

"You understand that after this crisis is over, it will be taken away again?"

"Yes." No. He could not live without it. "There's still some in the fortress," he said, suddenly remembering that Bishop had taken some from him.

"Then we will get it back or destroy it," Mina said. "Next time we get into the fortress."

But in the meantime, Jekyll returned to Christine, and the two talked for a further half-hour. With a final thought about how he hoped it was enough, Jekyll let Christine fall silent.

"Why were you talking to yourself last night?" She asked.

"I have to leave," Jekyll said.

"Don't…don't leave."

"Goodbye," Jekyll said, squeezing his eyes shut and walking to the door. He felt a moment's hesitation, and actually felt the guards swooping in on him before he came back to himself. He was safe now. Safe.

Although the night prior was somewhat of a blur, Jekyll didn't feel comfortable talking about Hyde. He'd been hallucinating of Hyde, obviously due to sleep deprivation and drug withdrawals. But what he had been hearing, apparently, corresponded to what Mina was hearing of Hyde as well.


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

The numbers were back and Melissa was having sex with him and should he tell her about Skinner? Every time he tried to speak, she hushed him. Melissa—Mina—felt wonderful under his hands and body. He succumbed to simply concentrating on her.

"Your legs?"

"Women shave their legs; have done so since…well, a few decades after your time."

"Hm." Sawyer wasn't quite sure what to make of that. "And if you get pregnant?"

"I wouldn't worry about that."

In the muted green light of some device Sawyer didn't know what it did, Melissa gasped. She rolled off of him, and Sawyer realized that it was pain. There was a snipping sound, the lights came on, and the device which had emitted light smashed against a wall.

"It's gone," Melissa said, sitting up, running her hands through her hair—at least, what remained of it. Most of it had been raked out.

Sawyer slowly felt his mind returning to himself. "Give me the scissors," he said. "I'm next."

"No," Melissa said, and seemed to come back to herself. "I have a solvent…it will work better. She ran to the bathroom, turned on the bathtub, ran to the kitchen, dumped several chemicals into the churning bathwater, dunked her own head into it. She dried it off, a few chunks of metal floated on the surface. Sawyer followed suit, and the metal immediately disbanded and sank to the bottom.

"Skinner, thank you," Melissa said, hugged Skinner. "But we don't have much time. I'm afraid that I betrayed you, and I don't know how I've done so."

She got dressed, and Sawyer got dressed, and neither of them were wearing much at all.

"You don't know how?" he asked.

"Yes. The nature of mind control…" she pulled a bottle out of her closet, pulled a wand out of the bottle, and started touching her hair with it as she spoke. Wherever the wand touched, the hair grew a half-inch. "No one believes they are being controlled. Every person honestly believes they are following their own wills. After you fell asleep…I was going to tell Bishop to come get you. And I thought that it was because you would have killed him. But you would have been captured. Do you see?"

"Er…not really."  
"Bishop sent me to find the League because I told him about them…but I didn't tell him everything…but I don't know what I left out!" Melissa suddenly knocked a glass off of her dresser, where it shattered on the ground. "Is Nemo captured yet?" Melissa asked suddenly as she put the bottle away, her hair standing defiantly unruly and short again.

"I don't know," Sawyer said.

"No," Skinner said. "You saved him. Rather, Mina saved him."

"Then there is still time." She grabbed several metal cylinders and stuffed them into a knapsack. She fastened one of the time-travel belts around herself. "There's one more belt. Rodney, what's that on your…is it your wrist?"

"Yeah. It's a cuff. Tom broke it, it wont come off."

"Alright then. Tom's coming back with me." Melissa threw a belt at Sawyer. "For you, Rodney…" She grasped the cuff and tugged it into the next room. "This is a super sharp knife," Sawyer heard her say. "Use it carefully. It will cut through bone as easily as metal."

"An' you'll be back for me?"

"Not for a while."

"Well why can't one of the two of you come back with two belts?"

"It's one for one. Don't worry. A day, maybe two. Stay in this apartment, don't let anyone in."

Sawyer clicked the belt into place.

"I have no way of reprogramming this quickly," Melissa said. "So we're going to end up in the middle of Bishop's factory, probably with multiple guns trained on us. They will not be expecting me, and they will not be expecting you to be expecting them." She picked up several guns, and handed them to Sawyer. "These are outdated, but probably what you're used to."

"So what's the plan?"

"You take cover behind me and we run. If anyone's in the way, shoot them."

"Alright."

"Ready?" Melissa pushed a button on both her own and Sawyer's belt, and Tom suddenly found himself in the center of a group of guards.

The guards had obviously been waiting a while, as there was a moment of surprise before they drew their guns. Melissa was a blur of motion as Tom started shooting. Sawyer estimated that he had killed perhaps two of them, but most of them already had their throats ripped out. "Let's go!" Melissa said, blood streaming down her face. Sawyer reflected, briefly, that the Mina of the distant future was a very different woman than the Mina of today.


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

"_—touches that watch of his when he thinks about relationships, secretly had a crush on one of his college buddies, has constant fantasies about you coming to him begging for sex—"_

_ "Would. You. Shut. Up."_

_ "I'm almost done, he's not _that_ interesting." _

Ever since Jekyll had been rescued and things had quieted down, Hyde had not stopped talking about the man. Some of the things he mentioned seemed feasible, others, outlandish. Certainly somewhat interesting—but she couldn't let him know that. Nonetheless, he seemed to sense her curiosity, and seemed to know that her reluctance at hearing about Jekyll was entirely a pretense, constructed by society.

"We are fortunate that Christine would cooperate with you," Nemo said as Jekyll emerged from the holding cell.

"Yes, well, she's…"

"_Look. He's going to pull out his watch."_

"…well…fairly fond of me." Jekyll pulled out his watch, as he sat down. He flicked it open, closed it again. "I didn't ask for it."

"Captain," a crewman said, entering the room. "Mr. Sawyer and…that future-woman are outside."

"Melissa?" Nemo said, thought deeply.

"Captain, I must insist that you let her in," Mina said. "She has several answers that I need."

"Then let them in," Nemo said to the crewman. It was fortunate that the two had found the _Nautilus_ at all, as it was underwater now almost all the time. It had surfaced for air, briefly, and quite away from the mainland. But here, the woman who claimed to be Mina from the future—well, she hadn't left on the greatest note last time. Melissa and Sawyer entered the room, both wearing next to nothing. Mina gasped slightly at the blatant display of indecency, Jekyll turned bright red, and Nemo grew visibly annoyed. All of them quickly averted their eyes.

"_Hm,"_ Hyde mocked. "_Would you look at that six-pack?"_

_ "No,"_ Mina responded, "_I wouldn't."_

Sawyer had the decency of looking ashamed at his state of undress, but that didn't stop him from talking as soon as he entered the room. "Jekyll," Sawyer said. "Is Quatermain—?"

"Mrs. Harker," Jekyll said, ignoring Tom, standing up from his chair. Mina and her future counterpart both glanced up. "I must speak to you—"

"Yes," Mina chimed in, trying to not actually _look_ at either of them, "I have a few questions as well—"

"Call me Miss Murry if you can't handle Melissa," Melissa said to Jekyll, "although I would prefer the latter. At any rate, time is running out. I'm afraid I must redirect all questions to Tom here, who now knows most of what I do. But I must speak to Captain Nemo."

"Get dressed first," he sputtered out.

Melissa rolled her eyes and walked out of the room, returning a moment later with a blanket which she used to cover herself. Nemo glowered, but nodded his ascent. Melissa took a seat beside him.

"Maybe we'd better step out," Sawyer said, and did so himself. Jekyll and Mina quickly stood up and chased him down. Sawyer grabbed a jacket of his which was hung in the hallway, and put it on to at least partially cover himself. He walked through the hallway, and the two followed. "I have to ask, though," Sawyer said, "Jekyll, if you've escaped, did Quatermain…escape with you as well?"

"No," Jekyll said. "Quatermain…I don't know what's wrong with him. I saw him briefly. Didn't seem to be himself."

"They put Jekyll in a position of minimum security and I rescued him myself," Mina said, impatiently brushing over the details. "Skinner's still in there too—"

"Oh, no, he's escaped," Sawyer said. "He's in the future…Melissa's time. He couldn't come back with us, unless there was another belt. One belt per one person, and only two of the kind in existence."

"I'm still not sure how much I believe her regarding time travel," Mina said.

"Really?" Sawyer said. He arrived at his room and stepped inside. Mina and Jekyll lingered outside as drawers were opened. Sawyer elevated his voice to make up for distance. "I would have thought you and Jekyll would have believed most of all. Especially after what she did to the two of you."

"What did…I…say about Jekyll and my situation?"

"_My situation too,"_ Hyde pointed out. Mina did the equivalent of an impatient mental nod.

"Skinner was apparently supposed to tell you, but she didn't know how to tell him. But this thing—what she's done with Hyde—turns out it's temporary."

Jekyll's body stiffened, and he began to tremble as Hyde triumphantly exclaimed "_Hah! I knew it!"_. Jekyll and Mina locked eyes.

"_You cannot go back to him and torment him any more," _Mina said.

"_Watch me," _Hyde retorted.

"_He gave you life!"_

"_He created and raised me in a cage. He has chained me to him just as much as he has chained himself to me."_

"How long?" Jekyll asked.

"She didn't say," Tom replied. "But I got the impression that it was only meant to last a few days. No, there's no way to speed it up."

"But it's been four days," Jekyll pointed out.

"No, it's only been…three." Sawyer objected.

"Four," Mina agreed.

"Four…oh, right! I lost a day. There was a slight time difference in the time travel. I was awake all last night…but the sun was still up when I came over here." Sawyer stepped out of his room, now quite properly dressed for the time he was in. "Melissa came here with an idea. We still need to get Quatermain out of Bishop's facility, and we still need to topple it. She said she needed some stuff from me, too, so I'll have to leave the two of you." Sawyer then moved towards where Nemo and Melissa were presumably still conferring.

"Dr. Jekyll, I'm sorry for the way things are shaping up," Mina felt obligated to say.

"Don't be," Jekyll said. "On one hand, it will be terrible to be with that _monster_ again—"

"_Not too wonderful being with you either,"_ Hyde shot back.

"—but it will be good to have him away from you. I suppose he's been providing commentary for most of the situations that have been going on?"

"_Bet your ass."_

"Yes, yes he has," Mina replied.

"As much as I despise him, he _is_ a part of me."

"_Idiot's probably lonely,"_ Hyde snorted.

"He's _my_ mistake. I wouldn't dare tell Hyde this if I could tell you without doing so…but I can't. So to tell you the truth, it's a little…lonely." Hyde, apparently, had no remark on the honest sentimentality. He even seemed a bit taken aback.

"And to transform again?" Mina asked, knowing how hopelessly hooked he was.

"Yes, well," Jekyll mumbled, looking away and putting a hand in his pocket.

"_Aw look, now you've gone and hurt his feelings,"_ Hyde said.

"I must say," Mina said, "I've learned an awful lot about you these past few days."

Jekyll draw a quick intake of breath and looked up. "What is he telling you?" he asked. "You must remember, he's a liar and he hates me."

"_Oh my god,"_ Mina suddenly realized. "_Everything you told me has been true."_

_ "But of course. Brilliant shade of red he's turning now, isn't it?" _

Mina choked back a grin. "Nothing of importance," she said, trying to be reassuring. Of course, Jekyll would find out when Hyde was returned to him, but Mina didn't feel that she, personally, had to deliver the news.


	36. Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

Nemo very seldom felt stupid. He'd been a powerful man for a very long time, both in intellect and in physical stature. Captain of a ship which was one of a kind, ex-prince, brought up in royalty and expected to be treated as such.

Of course Nemo still had his unique ship and his royal background, but he limped along with his cane, feeling somewhat crippled, but felt even more inept when he didn't immediately understand what Melissa was talking about. "An EMP," she explained. "An electromagnetic pulse. Everyone in the fortress will be unharmed, although all electronics will crash and burn. Including the main command center, where the instructions and commands are being broadcasted to all of the victims. Including pretty much anything with any sort of charge."

"And I assume you know how to construct one such of these devices?" Nemo asked.

"Yes," Melissa said. "But I'll need some materials…copper wiring, some metal sheets, and these," she said as she pulled out three tubes.

"What is its power source?" Nemo asked.

"Well of course it would be…wait, no, you don't have that available. Hm. Well, I supposes we could modify it to run off of electricity." Mina quickly drew a diagram, and Nemo's inventive mind kicked in, even overriding his doubt that the woman could possibly retain technological information in that pretty little brain of hers. The technology was surprisingly simple, perhaps would even be made available within a few generation's time.

"I don't know what plan you are going to make," Melissa said, deftly slicing copper sheets into wires. "So I'll leave it open. It will be easier to plug it in, but you can manually—"

"Reformat the interior to obtain a battery-like charge."

"Yes, quite right. The resulting explosion—"

"Is diffused to shoot off of both ends rather than destroying the entire tubing."

"I know you are a genius, Nemo," Melissa said. "You are perhaps the most intelligent person I've ever met. Please stop comparing cock sizes with me. You simply do not have the technological knowledge that I do."

Nemo didn't immediately catch what she meant. She had said it so casually that he at first thought she was referring to chickens, but realized with a start that she was literally referring to anatomy.

"I will not have such language around me," he said.

"Well, you will not have to tolerate it much longer," she said, and Nemo caught a glimpse of the Mina of 1899 in that statement. "You seem to understand what you're doing," she continued. "If I could get a few high-powered super magnets, then I could reprogram the belts to get to Skinner."

Glad to see her go, Nemo went to a spare room to get a pair of magnets.

"They'll do," she said, and leaned over the belts. "If you have any questions—"

Nemo snorted derisively.

"I didn't think so either," she continued. "But if by some bizarre fluke you don't immediately understand something, then both of these belts will be programmed to my apartment. Now, since you seem to understand how to construct the device, I must be leaving."

There was no official goodbye, and Nemo wasn't certain that he would have welcomed one. One moment she was there, then there was a crack as the air filled the vacuum she had left behind. The blanket, cast aside before she had disappeared, fell to the ground.

There was work to be done.


	37. Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

Melissa had not lied about the knife's sharpness.

After poking around through the apartment for a few hours (and finding out about "history" of Britain—a female Prime Minister? Absolutely absurd), Skinner reluctantly tried to cut through the steel cuff. It was exactly as difficult a process as he had thought it would be. He had to be very careful, as it easily cut through the steel cuff. He flicked a piece away, felt his wrist for skin or blood, flicked another piece away…and eventually, he felt blood. He hadn't even felt it cut his skin, and hoped fervently that it wasn't a serious cut as he set to work on the opposite side of the cuff. Eventually the damn thing dropped off, and Skinner returned to the wound that was now on top of his wrist. It didn't feel deep, but it was bleeding. Skinner grabbed a towel from Melissa's counter and sopped it up. It slowly grew damp with the invisible blood. He knew that some had run off onto the floor, but he didn't want to play hide-and-seek with his blood, and decided to clean it off when it was visible.

His mind suddenly returned to those glasses. He'd heard of recent events…well, as of 1899 at least…leading up to the actual seeing of heat. Military stuff, for the most part. Was that what the construction men with a those glasses were doing? Skinner glanced out the window. Although the sky was the deep dark of very early morning, the city was lit up and the through traffic of pedestrians and cars hadn't slowed down a bit. A group of men with the bright orange "construction" uniforms lingered on the street, one man redirecting the cars, which had by now slowed to a crawl.

Melissa had told him not to leave, but no one could see him now…except, perhaps, for the construction men. Maybe they had the magical glasses. Skinner knew, though, that he wanted a pair. They were right outside the building—and if fate so placed them there, then who was Skinner to say no? He left the door unlocked and walked down the stairs to the street. He scanned the men who worked under the street lamp, and found one with the glasses who was slightly off to the side.

"Excuse me sir," Skinner said, approaching the man.

"Hang on a second," he said to Skinner. "You've got three pipes on your right!" he shouted to a man, who was working in a pit. The man in the pit gave a nod, and the man with the glasses turned to Skinner. "Alright, now what—oh my god, what happened to your wrist?" The man grabbed Skinner's hand and held it aloft. "You're going to need to see a doc or something…" The man dropped Skinner's hand and removed his glasses. He glanced left, then right, confused that Skinner had disappeared so suddenly. Skinner grabbed the glasses from the man's bewildered hands and ran. "Hey!" the man shouted, giving chase to the glasses, which seemed to float and were apparently steeling themselves.

Skinner ducked around a corner and thrust the glasses into a trash bin. Skinner pressed himself against a wall. He noticed that several drops of blood, which ran down his arm, had turned visible. The construction man didn't notice the magical floating blood, and ran past. Somewhat light-headed, Skinner wiped the blood off with his other hand, and then wiped it off on the wall best he could. He returned to Melissa's apartment with his prize, drawing only a few curious stares for the floating glasses. Before he could start up the stairs, Melissa caught him on her way down. She grabbed the glasses out of the air. "Where are you bleeding?" she hissed. "You're getting it all over the damn place."

She led him back up to her room. Skinner noticed several stray drops of blood along the path, presumably marking the way he'd gone down. As they entered the kitchen, which was pretty well covered in the stuff, Melissa quickly glanced at the glasses he had stolen and put them on herself. She made a slight sound of surprise as she glanced at the wound. "Why on earth did you leave this apartment with a wound this bad?" she demanded. She went over to a cupboard and started opening doors, looking for something.

"'ad no bloody idea 'ow bad it was," Skinner said. "Still don.' I wanted one of those glasses, though."

"Look," Melissa said, handing Skinner the glasses. He put them on. Everything immediately took a red tint, and Skinner looked down at his hand. He could see himself. A swatch of skin seemed to have been removed, and it still gently pumped out blood.

"Aren' you goin' to lecture me for taking the glasses?" Skinner asked, knowing that Mina, in his time, would not have tolerated it.

"No," Melissa said. "They're government insured. Besides, I can use the help they offer in patching you up."

Skinner glanced over his body from the chair he was in. He hadn't seen himself so fully since that one time he had stood naked in front of a mirror, coated head to toe in greasepaint because he'd finally gotten so sick of being invisible, thinking he had finally lost it but gratified to finally be able to _see_ himself.. But that had been before the accident. Skinner looked at his burn wounds with some dismay.

"What blood type are you?" Melissa asked as she lay a bandage over the wound, then wrapped it tightly.  
"Blood type?"

"A...B…O…positive or negative?"

"I 'ave no idea what you're talkin' about. 'Ow can you 'ave negative blood?"

"Alright, you're getting some 'O.'"

"All—alrigh.'"

Melissa pulled out two vials of blood from her refrigerator, downed one cold, and heated up the other. The transfusion was quick and surprisingly painless, and Skinner began to feel a little more awake.

"I'm going to have to send you back now," she said. "The League was probably about to start with their plan, and it probably involved you."

"Well you would probably be a bit more helpful then I would," Skinner said, fully appreciating the irony that, although the metal cuff was off, his medical bandages would give away his presence just as much.

"I was somewhat out of mind when I visited the League the first time," Melissa said, "but one thing I told you was true. It's dangerous to meddle in the past. I have done so too much already. You're probably going to end up with both belts, so I only ask that you be careful with them. Don't use them if you can avoid it."

"Well, thanks a lot for wot help you did give, anyways," Skinner said, standing up, feeling a bit stronger. He pulled the belt on. "Goodbye."

"Leave the glasses here."

"Oh c'mon, really?"

"Yes. You can't have future artifacts in the past."

"Bishop has plenty of them!"

"He shouldn't."

"It's an unfair advantage."

"Sorry."

"I'll give it back later."

Melissa considered this. "After Bishop's been killed," she said. "Do I have your word?"

"Of course. You 'ave my word as a gentleman."

"Alright. Then goodbye."

Melissa touched the belt, and a moment later, Skinner landed on the meeting room table. Fortunately, no one else was there. Skinner set the belt on the table and went to grab his trenchcoat.


	38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

"Tom."

A knock came through the door.

"Tom, come on, wake up," Skinner said. "We're doin' mission assignments."

Sawyer was out of bed and at the door. He'd fallen asleep in his clothes, which were now somewhat wrinkled, but suitable for a mission. He quickly glanced at a clock, which read that it was almost noon at this point.

"When'd you get back?" Sawyer asked, as the two of them walked back to the meeting room.

"Jus' now. Wotever she'n Nemo were doing, she took 'er sweet time wiff it."

Sawyer entered the room, where everyone was waiting. Nemo still had that cane sitting next to him. Jekyll stared at the table, and seemed nervous, even a bit sick. Skinner took a seat, unreadable in his invisibility. Mina leaned forward to start the meeting.

"We have three goals which we must accomplish," she said. "Kill Bishop, disable his mind-control device, and destroy the factory."

_I've had sex with you,_ Sawyer thought suddenly. _So far in the future it was like a different person. But you like talking dirty. You are infertile. You don't mind exhibitionism. And you liked me, even when I was alive. That's now. Are you thinking of me?_ Sawyer quickly suppressed his train of thoughts and tried to focus on the matter at hand.

"What about Christine?" Jekyll asked.

"What about her?" Mina retorted.

"You're talking about killing her father. She's nine years old."

"It's an unfortunate set of circumstances, to be certain, but it's certainly worse to leave her with that man." Jekyll stared more intently at the table, but didn't respond.

"Why do you care?" Skinner asked. "We'll send her off to an orphanage or somefin.' She'll be okay." Jekyll pressed his lips together, but nodded. Sawyer was pretty sure that Jekyll wasn't okay with that, but had decided to stop talking anyways.

"We have bombs for the factory," Mina continued. "They need to be set up and detonated before the EMP goes off."

"The what?" Skinner asked. "ENP?"

"An EMP," Nemo said, "is an electromagnetic pulse. It will shut off all electricity within a five-mile radius. Including the bombs."

"Well, once the EMP is off, and the mind-control is disabled, it'll be a snap to kill Bishop," Sawyer pointed out.

"Assuming we can find him," Mina said. "And, of course, Mr. Quatermain is still inside there somewhere."

"He'll take care of himself."

"We're not certain of that. He could be in any number of grave situations."

"The EMP runs on electricity," Nemo interjected. "As do the bombs. The bombs must be set off, and then the EMP. Then Bishop must be stopped."

"Do we need flare guns to signal that the factory has been destroyed?" Sawyer asked. "How far apart are the two?"

"Well, Mrs. Harker caught me no more than half a mile away from the fortress," Jekyll said.

"And that was no more than a quarter of a mile from the factory," Mina finished. "The explosions themselves will be enough of a signal."

"And Bishop?" Skinner asked.

"He's never very hard to find," Jekyll said.

"I think we can manage between the four of us," Mina said.

"Five," Sawyer said, confused.

Jekyll cleared his throat. "It's been decided that I would remain here."

"Oh." Awkward.

"Then Mr. Sawyer and I will plant the factory bombs," Mina said. "Nemo can remain a safe distance away to set off the EMP, and Skinner can infiltrate the main fortress to kill Bishop. If no one has found Quatermain by then, then all of us return to the fortress."

"Wait a minute," Skinner said. "They can see me wiff those glasses of theirs. I know they have them."

"They don't have them on all the time," Jekyll said. "In fact, the only time I've seen them with infrared is when they were outside at night."

"Alright, but what if Melissa's transfer thing wears off?" Sawyer asked.

"Transfer thing?" Skinner asked.

"You know. What she did with Hyde."

"So much the better," Mina said. "It seems to me the plan would go better without him."

"But you passed out the first time it happened."

"Which is why you and I are teamed together. Should I pass out, I leave my fate in your hands. But the entire operation should not take long."

"Then so much the better we start right away," Nemo said.


	39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

Jekyll felt both relaxed and clear-headed. It was a relief to feel both at once, because the last few days he had been forced to trade off one for the other: would he indulge in his drug habit to feel relaxed, or would he deal with the rapid withdrawal symptoms to understand what was going on? Although he'd taken an entire vial shortly after the rest of the League had left, he still felt conscious and aware of his surroundings, _and_ the withdrawal symptoms had disappeared. He didn't linger on it mentally, but accepted it. It was a nice feeling.

He knew that his friends on the League would almost certainly succeed with their mission. He knew that it would benefit the rest of the world, would take revenge on Mina's behalf for what Bishop would do to her, and it was a rescue mission for Allan Quatermain and the rest of the town which was captured. The League could overturn all of this, and this was a good thing…but Christine.

Yes, she had been his captor and tormentor, but she had been nowhere near as bad as Hyde had been anyways, and she had always genuinely liked him. She was spoiled beyond belief, and wouldn't survive a minute in the orphanages of the time. Her father was soon to be dead—Jekyll didn't even know if her mother was around. Probably not. Jekyll found himself the room where she was being held.

"Henry," she said when Jekyll entered. He noticed that she had been provided with a new dress, probably courtesy of one of Nemo's tailors, but it had much fewer frills than the others had. Her face was clean and unpainted, and she seemed depressed to the point of sickness. "I don't like it here."

"You wont be here too much longer," Jekyll promised futilely.

"Can you let me out?" she asked.

"I wish I could," Jekyll began, "but Nemo—" Jekyll was suddenly, forcibly reminded of when he had been tied down, begging Christine in quite the same way to be set free. She had calmly said no, that her dad wouldn't let her and that was that. "Yes," Jekyll said. It was time that this girl learned mercy.

"Can we go outside?" she asked as soon as she had cleared out of the cage. Jekyll thought it over briefly. The submarine was still above water from when the League had departed, but probably wouldn't be for much longer. On one hand, she was an important prisoner, but on the other hand, they were about a mile from shore. No way she could swim that far as an escape attempt. Besides, Jekyll was by now quite determined to show her how a good host acted.

"Yes, but stay with me." She showed no desire to run or escape as they reached the top deck. Jekyll had no sooner closed the door behind him when the ship slowly began to sink into the water.

"Henry, what's happening?" Christine asked.

"Nemo's crew," Jekyll said, turning to look at the door which they had come through. "I suppose they didn't think we would be up here. I didn't want to tell them, because they probably wouldn't have—rather, they would have been under orders to keep you back in the holding room. I might be getting in trouble just by letting you up here. We should go back—"

She was gone.

Her shoes had been kicked off ondeck, and her dress was floating in the water. Jekyll felt a dumb moment of dread as he realized that she was in the water, her head just above the surface. "Krissy! What are you doing!"

"Escaping!"

Jekyll quickly shed his own shoes and most of his clothing. The _Nautilus_ was sinking slowly, but once a couple dozen feet under water, would sink like a rocket. Jekyll was already up to his ankles in the water. He dove off and followed Christine.

She was a good swimmer. Not great, but she managed to keep her lead. Both struggled against the turbulent waves, but Christine swam, for the most part, underwater. Jekyll would be swimming, then see her bobbing head somewhere else, follow her. This continued as the _Nautilus_ sank from sight. At this point, both were set out for land. Eventually, the strain of swimming was too much for Christine, and she bobbed underwater again. Not diving ahead like she had done before, but slipped underwater in exhaustion. Jekyll quickly dove for her, the salt water stinging his eyes as he tracked her sinking, and pulled her up. As they surfaced, Christine grabbed him around his neck.

Jekyll struggled to breath as he swam to shore.

Jekyll set Christine ashore, and assessed himself. He figured that he wasn't tired at all due to the pounding adrenaline, but he couldn't place what had caused the light tingling sensation at his fingertips and chest. Christine was breathing normally and appeared to be unconscious. Jekyll touched her neck, estimated her pulse rate to be acceptable. She was clad only in her underwear, and soaking wet, so Jekyll removed his button-down shirt and put it over Christine. The end of his shirt reached roughly her mid-thigh.

Jekyll was still not even remotely tired, but that strange tingling sensation had turned into a light buzzing, and had spread to his feet as well. He couldn't feel his body well, and wondered if he were even capable of walking. It didn't matter, as there was nothing to do now but get into the sun and dry off while the League—

But wait. Christine was smiling. Unconscious people don't—

She was up and running _again_, this time diving into the forest_._ Jekyll thought, as he gave chase, that perhaps her father had taught her better than he had realized.


	40. Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

Mina stopped atop a hill, and rest of the League (at least, the three men which accompanied her) stopped as well. This hill was perhaps unique. The fortress and the factory were both nestled down in the surrounding forest, and this was one of the few places where both were within view. The hill was also visible to any of the townspeople, if there had been anyone in the town. But the town was deserted.

She felt uncustomary nervous about the mission and the entire situation. Of course, she buried the nervousness by taking charge. "Nemo, is this close enough for the EMP to reach?" Mina asked.

"Yes," he answered. He had not said one word about limping along on an injured leg, but she had heard his labored breathing and noticed him slowing down. At best, he would slow down the rest of the League, at worst, he would sustain permanent leg damage from walking on a bullet wound.

"Then Skinner, Sawyer, and myself will regroup here after our missions are completed," she said.

Skinner set down the EMP and started disrobing. He pulled out a red-tinted pair of glasses from his trench coat, put them on, and glanced at his wrist before unwinding the wrappings. "What is that?" Mina asked, glancing at the glasses. She didn't bother pointing out to Skinner the danger of infection of leaving such a deep wound exposed; if all of Dr. Jekyll's harassment couldn't get Skinner to keep his bandages on when he had third-degree burns, then certainly Mina wasn't about to change his mind now for a scratched wrist.

"Glasses," he said.

Mina thought that they looked suspiciously like the glasses which his guards had worn when they were shooting at her. "Infrared?" she asked.

"Well you don' 'ave to infer anything. You can clearly see they're red."

"Infrared," Sawyer said impatiently. "Not 'infer red.'"

"Oh. Yeah, they are."

"And where did you get the infrared glasses?" Mina asked.

"I…ah…borrowed them. Needed them to see how badly I was bleeding."

"_Are you going to let him get away with that?" _ Hyde asked. Mina didn't know if he was mocking her or not. "_You know he stole them."_

"They will clearly be of no use to you," Sawyer said. "So how about you let me borrow them for this mission?"

"An excellent idea," Mina mumbled. "I'm certain Mr. Skinner has no objections?"

"No," he said, clearly relieved to be off the hook.

"Then we must part now," Mina said. Good luck to you, Mr. Skinner and Captain Nemo."

"And to you," Nemo said, sitting on a rock and toying with the EMP. Skinner said nothing, maybe already being gone. Mina and Sawyer ducked into the forest to the factory, Sawyer carrying the bombs in his backpack.

"So it seems you know about bomb technology in the future," Sawyer said.

"Yes," Mina said, eagerly seizing the distraction of conversation. "Or perhaps everyone does."

"Well that would be kind of dangerous to have that kind of information available to the general public."

"You do not trust the general public?"

"Oh, I do. The only problem is that the masterminds and the crazies are included in that."

"_Stop talking to him,"_ Hyde cut through the chatter. "_I want to talk to you."_

Mina felt a moment of confusion, as Hyde had never been that frank before. This was displaced by resentment. "_You do not own me, sir,"_ she replied.

"…_Please."_ That alone was enough to stop Mina from retorting back. Had he just been…polite? Edward Hyde, proclaimed by his creator to be pure evil?

Sawyer was talking again, but Mina was now far more interested in what Hyde had to say. _"I quite thought you incapable of politeness,"_ she confessed.

"_More disinterested than incapable, madam, but if there is no other way you'll sodding listen to me…"_

_ "You have been nothing but rude and intolerant the entire time you have been here."_

_ "I imagine you'll be glad to see me go."_

_ "You have no idea." _

_ "I would like to remind you, Mrs. Harker, that I no more chose this than you did. I'm just along for the ride." _

_ "You could have—"_

_ "Could have stayed quiet all this time? Not spoken unless spoken to? That's not my style. Not _anyone's_ style."_

_ "You could have respected me." _

"Mrs. Harker?" Sawyer asked. He had broken off his monologue, and gazed at her with concern.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm talking to Edward now."

"Ah," Sawyer said, and quieted down.

"_I wasn't seeing it any other way at the time,"_ Hyde said. "_If it ever made sense to me, what I did, it doesn't now. So I'm sorry if I hurt you."_

Mina, stunned, said nothing. Was he faking an apology to get on Mina's good side? Did it matter if he was? She stumbled over a root, suddenly realizing that while she had been talking, her body had been growing steadily weaker and weaker. She caught her feet, but barely.

"_Are you alright?"_

"Are you alright?"

Both of the men spoke at once. Mina nodded. "Fine."

"_You should go vampire,"_ Hyde said. "_For strength."_

"_Absolutely not."_ But she had already turned. Hyde, somehow, had found that part of her which transformed her from human to vampire. "_If you do that to me again—"_ she began to threaten, but realized that, not only could she do nothing in retaliation, she didn't want to. Once she felt the strength, she knew that she couldn't go back. "_Very well."_


	41. Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41

As per instructions, Nemo had taken position atop a hill, where both the fortress and the factory were within sight. The EMP was open. If it couldn't hook up to an electrical source, then it had to be to manually connected by a pair of wires. It was a delicate process, far more delicate than he would have allowed for had he suspected it to be so difficult. But with three of the League already gone on assignment, there was little choice but to work carefully.

His careful work was distracted by a rustling in the forest behind him. The brush was thick, but the crashing was decidedly human. Nemo drew his sword and prepared for an attack—with a deserted town, that seemed the most likely possibility of what was to come. But one didn't come. He caught a figure of a child darting beneath his sword and on its way, and a crashing from behind it. The shirtless Jekyll nearly ran into the sword Nemo held up and gazed at it in surprise for a split second. He locked eyes with Nemo, about to say something, when the distinct sound of wild electricity came from where the child had been running.

Nemo turned to the buzzing, and saw that his worst suspicions had been confirmed: Christine, soaking wet, had run directly into the current between the wires, was shocked and was now lying on the ground. Jekyll ran over to her and pulled her out of the current (wait, was she and wearing Jekyll's shirt?), quickly setting her off to the side and engaging in standard medical procedure, head over the chest, listening for breathing and such. Nemo was much more interested in Jekyll, whose torso was raw with scratches, one of his toenails was hanging mostly off, and his right ankle had swollen roughly to the size of a tennis ball.

"You are injured," Nemo said. An explanation about their transfer of clothing, dampness, and presence here instead of the ship could be reached later.

"Really?" Jekyll asked, glancing up. "Where?"

"Your chest. Your feet. Your ankle."

Jekyll glanced down at his feet. "Huh. Sprained. I don't feel a thing." Before turning back to the girl.

Nemo glanced at the EMP and felt a moment of dread as he realized that it had been broken. No amount of manual connecting would fix it. "However Christine escaped," Nemo said, "she has very efficiently destroyed this current."

"Destroyed it?" Jekyll glanced up in shock. "But that can't—you're in the middle of a mission, right?"

"Yes. This doesn't change the fact that it is destroyed."

"Can you fix it?"

"Unless you happen to know of an open electric field, there is no way of setting this to work."

"Open electric field…" He was actually thinking! The suggestion was rhetorical, of course. There almost certainly wouldn't be—but Jekyll knew the factory better than Nemo. Nemo quickly consulted his memory of the blueprints he had drawn, and realized that there was, in fact, one.

* * *

"We have five bombs," Sawyer said when they reached the clearing around the factory. Mina didn't respond for a moment. She had been very quiet, talking to Hyde presumably. Sawyer didn't know if the conversation was good, bad, or irrelevant, as she had been behind him, and he couldn't read her face.

"So four around each corner, one on top?" Mina replied.

"Sounds good to me," Sawyer said.

"Then I'll start on the roof." Mina took a bomb out of the pack, concentrated for a moment, and then took a flying leap at the factory wall. She landed soundlessly against the side, and began climbing strait up.

Sawyer could _never_ get used to her doing that.

She quickly disappeared from sight, and Sawyer flipped on the glasses Skinner had filched from the construction man. They took a moment to get used to, but Sawyer could, after a while, see Mina walking along the roof, planting the bomb. Her form was vague in the glasses, and Sawyer remembered that any heat she currently had was on her clothing and on the surface of her skin, where some sunlight had been absorbed.

Now, the factory's resident's forms were very clearly defined. But as Sawyer contrasted the two, he realized something surprising. His eyes widened in shock, and he put the bombs back into the pack. There was no _way_ he could set off the bombs now.

The village had been empty. The houses had been deserted. The adult men had all been taken to the fortress, clad in black and given weapons, and had joined forces with Bishop against their wills. Well, here were the children. They were easy to pick out, with the obvious height difference. But there were also probably women—who walked somewhat differently than the guards had done, and the elderly, who shuffled slowly from place to place. It was a nightmare.

Of course Sawyer had expected people in the factory, but perhaps a tenth of how many there actually were. A tenth, and men for christsake, if not innocent, perhaps at least capable of escaping a burning building.

"You haven't planted the other bombs," Mina said. Sawyer yelped and jumped, not having heard her sneak up on him.

"I won't," Sawyer said. "I can't. There are women and children in there."

"Simple solution to that," Mina said, picking out another bomb and starting off to plant it."

"What?" Sawyer demanded.

"Force them out."

* * *

Find and kill a man. Easy job for an invisible man, right? Well, in theory, yes. Apparently, the previous invisible man Griffin had made quite a name of himself by doing just that.

Thieving, Skinner was good at. He could probably arrange to have the entire fortress stripped out in a few days, and every item within hawked off within a month. But kill? Skinner had never killed a man before. The closest he'd come was planting those bombs in Mongolia, but even then he hadn't had to see the faces…or the blood. Hadn't even really expected anyone to stay in the building, had expected everyone to clear on out.

"_He's evil,"_ Skinner reminded himself as he slipped inside an open door, barely avoiding running into a guard. "_He would have done the same to me. What he's doing is worse than death to those here. Innocents! He took Mina in the future…took Jekyll and Sawyer and Quatermain now."_

It would be simple. Find a gun and shoot him. Killing wasn't a bad thing, under certain circumstances—Mina was a killer, as was Sawyer and Quatermain. Had Nemo killed before? Skinner suspected so. And Jekyll, well, he could and routinely did _release_ a killer, which was about the same. These were the good guys, and that made it okay. Right?

Then came part two of Skinner's problem: finding Bishop. Jekyll had claimed that he would be easy to find, but then, Jekyll had been associating with the man's daughter. Thinking of the hazy map of blueprints he remembered, Skinner wandered past the room of cages (mostly empty by now, although a few pitiful souls sat in silence). He looked into Bishop's office—trashed, bloodstained, and deserted. Well, then, perhaps at the main machine for mind control? Skinner wandered there, wandered past several scenes of men in the process of being turned over to Bishop's side. He shuddered and got back to the business at hand.

Main room? Jekyll's former cage? Kitchen? Bishop didn't appear to be anywhere. A room stood open, and inside was a sleeping form on a mattress. Quatermain! Skinner went over and almost moved to wake him up…but remembered to check for the wires in his hair. And Quatermain was full of them. Which meant Quatermain was on Bishop's side. Skinner quietly ducked out of the room. He would just have to find Quatermain again later.

He didn't get very far before he saw, far off, some of those men with the infrared glasses. Skinner ducked back into the room before realizing that it didn't matter, the glasses saw heat and not walls. Skinner ran across the hallway (had anyone seen him?) and into the kitchen. He hid behind the stove, thinking only that the heat would mask his own. His emotional response quickly kicked in: the boiling heat was too hot and too close, and Skinner fought back panic, thinking of the fire and metal in Mongolia. He sweated profusely, watched the men with the glasses…and they passed by. Skinner quickly ducked out from behind the stove, and not a burn on him.

But the men didn't seem interested in Skinner, or in looking for him. Even as he watched, they removed them. Skinner realized that they had been wearing them before they had been called here to—what? They all drew their guns.

"I have Christine," said a voice. Jekyll's! Skinner looked out, and saw that, stranger still, Jekyll was wearing Skinner's trench coat.

"_If he wrecks it—" _Skinner thought, and resolved to follow. If Jekyll was making claims like that, then Bishop was sure to show up soon.


	42. Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42

Mina steadily felt weaker and weaker as time passed.

She sat beside the building, where she had planted the final bomb. She had not found the strength to get up and move. Not that it mattered; it wouldn't go off until Sawyer had finished clearing out the building, and besides, Mina had the detonator herself, and would decide when to set it off.

The sound of gunshots filled the factory. "There's a bomb in here!" Sawyer shouted. "Anyone who doesn't want to die, get out!" More gunshots punctuated his point. Something exploded. Children went running out of the factory, and several elderly men and women shuffled out as well. They were all free.

"Missus!" One of the little boys said, grasping Mina's dress. "There's a bad man in there! You need to run!"

Her body tingled all over, and although she distantly appreciated the concern, she bared her fangs and sent the well-intentioned boy running. More shots were fired as Mina struggled to her feet and walked away from the factory. Hyde was absolutely silent, but perhaps Mina simply couldn't hear him. She felt woozy, something that she hadn't felt since, well, since Hyde had been put inside her head a few days ago. Before that, not since she had been alive and human. She set the detonator on the ground, and noticed that, although most of the children and elderly had left, most of the women inside were flocking to Sawyer. Not a friendly "thanks-for-saving-us" flock, either. They were probably under mind control. Sawyer brandished his gun and shot it off a few times, trying to scare them away, but they only drew closer.

"_I'm leaving now,"_ Hyde said. "_Goodbye."_

"_Good…bye?"_

Mina felt the snapping sound that she had heard when she had first put on the headphones, and there was a sickening absence in her head for a moment, like some part of her had been ripped from her body. The colors around her suddenly seemed dull and stained red, and she heard roaring blood before passing out. She saw, before consciousness left, that she was falling directly towards the detonator.

She was asleep, then an explosion and searing pain woke her, and then she went back to sleep.

* * *

Nemo had strapped the tubes for the EMP to Jekyll's back with a quick warning: the tubes themselves wouldn't explode, but the top and the bottom would projectile off stronger than a gun. So long as he curved himself away from the explosion when it happened, Jekyll wasn't apt to loose anything. The shirtless Jekyll had taken Skinner's trenchcoat, which fit only a bit tightly on him, to cover the tubes.

Jekyll knew that they would put him in the electric chair again. It was exactly what Bishop had threatened to do. This meant that the EMP would almost certainly go off faster than the bombs did, but the factory could be taken care of later.

Jekyll was being dragged in by the guards. This was a good thing; Jekyll wasn't sure that he could walk. He was numb all over, and hardly noticed when he was clubbed, kicked, or punched. He only felt a light tingling all over his body, and suddenly realized that it was what it felt like when he was about to transform. The sensation would usually last seconds at most, but now, it had been going on and accumulating for nearly an hour. Jekyll reflected on how much of his potion he had drank in the previous days, and wondered exactly how much of it still lingered in his stomach and bloodstream.

"You," Bishop said. Jekyll could barely lift his head, could hardly see the man. "What did you do with her?" Jekyll could tell that he was enraged, but could not arrange a response. "I suppose you think you're getting off easy again," Bishop seethed. "Your torture will come later, but now, you are going to be one of mine." Jekyll was taken off into another room, one which Christine had described to him as the Turning room—where he would be put under control. Jekyll struggled weakly, knowing that this wasn't a part of the plan, blood roaring in his ears like being underwater. He could very distantly hear the sounds of fist falls, and suspected that he was being hit, but could not feel a thing, couldn't see anything.

More distinctly, Jekyll could feel the transformation upon him. He felt it almost there, balanced on the cusp for a second, and then, it was there. Absolute, complete, utter fulfillment. Skinner's trenchcoat and most of Jekyll's clothing was ripped to shreds, the EMP fell to the ground as the straps snapped, and Jekyll screamed in the agony, sweat, delicious agony, before his voice cut off suddenly and there was a sharp pain in his throat. Jekyll passed out, and for the first time in quite a while, the potion he had been taking made the transformation occur, and the withdrawal symptoms disappeared.

* * *

At the explosion, Nemo sighed with relief. He had almost entirely given up on the plan when he'd heard the bullets instead of the bomb.

From where he stood outside of the fortress, he couldn't see the wreckage of the factory, but had to be prepared for Jekyll's plan to fail, as it almost inevitably would. They couldn't count on whatever method of torture Bishop chose to employ would be the same each time. Christine was left on the ground as Nemo had walked to the fortress. Hopefully, she would see the explosion and be intelligent enough not to enter the fortress either. But maybe she wouldn't.

Minutes passed and the electricity stayed on. This was a vital part of the plan: if the men inside suspected an attack, then the EMP could possibly be disabled.

Nemo thought briefly of the time-travel belts inside the ship, but resolved to fix the calamity himself. He grasped his cane and limped along on it, centering himself and casting aside the pain he felt.

When Nemo heard the screeching metal and animal-like roars from outside the factory, he realized what had happened, and was annoyed that he hadn't realized this would happen earlier. He had even been warned that the transformation was forthcoming, but hadn't thought that Jekyll would finally transform into Hyde during the mission.

The EMP lay intact on the ground. The men were far more interested in the gigantic beast which was trashing the place than the gimp Indian, so Nemo, for the first time in his life, completely escaped notice. He grasped the belt and saw the blueprints clearly in his mind. The electric chair which Jekyll had anticipated being taken to was halfway across the factory. Nemo walked past the running men, into the mirrored room, and set the device into the chair. He walked into the adjacent room, scanned the levers, and then pulled a switch.

Two of the ends shot through the mirror, narrowly avoided shooting Nemo _again._ But the desired result was accomplished: the chair shut off and the lights went out. The shouting and gunshots in the next room suddenly ceased, and the roaring and destruction of Edward Hyde was the only sound which cut through the absolute silence of the factory. And then, shouting and running, this time away from the factory. Some men clawed at their heads, most talked frantically.

"'ey, good job with that," a familiar cockney accent came from nowhere. "Now, you 'aven't seen Bishop around, 'ave you?"

"You haven't found him?" Nemo asked, realizing that it would probably be impossible now, or shortly would be


	43. Chapter 43

CHAPTER 43

One minute, Sawyer was shooting at the ceiling, the next, he was surrounded by

women shouting threats and brandishing semi-weapons, and then, the factory was on fire.

The women were just as surprised as Sawyer was. Sawyer hadn't expected them to be more than mindless robots, but he saw actual fear on their faces at the sudden inferno they found themselves in.

Debris fell from the ceiling, but managed to miss himself and the five or six women who hadn't fled. The walls seemed to have collapsed on top of each other and supported each other, at least for the moment. It could collapse at any time.

Sawyer's mind raced. Why had the detonator been pushed? Had Hyde coerced her into doing it? What happened to Mina? And, more importantly, how could escape the burning factory alive?

The women appeared conflicted, glancing at the fire, then back at Sawyer. Receiving different signals from Bishop's control (their hair glowed brilliantly in the firelight) and their survival instincts. Sawyer saw that most of the women hadn't been under mind control—so these few that were, what did that mean? Possibly that they were particularly strong-willed, and needed it to cooperate.

A single light had, miraculously, survived and was still lit. As Sawyer watched, it went out. Was the electricity cutting out due to damages, or had the EMP gone off? Sawyer glanced at the women again, and the same look came into their eyes as when Melissa's hair had been deftly snipped off, the sudden release. Then: panic. "Oh my God!"

Sawyer raced the doors, but they were welded shut—and the second he grabbed the handle, he held a handful of second-degree burns.

"Fuck!" he pulled his hand away, wrapped up in the agony. Stupid! He'd known the factory was hot—it was on fire for christsake.

He noticed that his entire left arm was burned pretty badly. Parts of it were black, and others, a worrying bone-white, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as his hand did, so he put it out of his mind. To escape…duh! Windows! There weren't many, but a few. The women, still panicking and running around in circles, would be no help.

Sawyer grabbed a wooden ladder which wasn't on fire and pulled himself out the window, melting his shoes, burning his hands even worse, and burning his arm in the process.

Sawyer ran for Mina, and she lay across the outside of the factory, most of her clothes burned off and her face actually sizzling against the wall. Sawyer pulled her away from the wall and set her aside—she would heal, the women inside would not. Sawyer pulled a rope from his sack and went back to his window.

"This way out, ladies!" he shouted inside. The women flocked to the window. Sawyer tied the rope to an outside tree and threw the other side in. The factory gave a worrying groan, as if it were about to collapse.

One of the women grasped the rope and looked up at Sawyer pleadingly. He stared blankly before realizing that she wanted to be pulled out. He looked down at his useless arm and knew he couldn't.

"Pull yourself out!" he shouted. The women gave the one a boost, and they helped each other out. Most of them were injured at least as badly as Sawyer was. None of them thanked him; each ran.

Sawyer returned to Mina. Her nearly-naked body was familiar to him, and he watched as her burns healed while his only started to hurt worse. The factory gave another worrying groan, and he knew he had to move her.

He tried to pick her up in his arms and dropped her. He heard something inside of her snap, and he winced at the sound. He tried again, this time pulling her onto his back. He began walking.

* * *

One moment, Quatermain was submerged in numbers.

The next, he was awake. The fortress was dark and people were panicking. But that didn't matter. Quatermain knew that he needed to kill Bishop, and this time, his own mind agreed with him.

A man in black ran past Quatermain. Quatermain stuck out a foot and the man tripped over it. Quatermain was upon him quickly and pulled a gun from his uniform. The man was already on his feet and running again.

Bishop's office was empty. Quaterrmain reflected on the rounds he had made during the fortress's operational use, and knew that in light of his factory burning and his soldiers running amok, Bishop had almost certainly gone to his stronghold.

As he walked, Quatermain realized that the cameras which studded the factory were no longer blinking. In addition, the lights had gone out, leaving only the overhead windows to let in the sun. The electricity, for some reason, was out. Probably why he and the other inhabitants of the factory, had suddenly been set free.

Acting on a hunch, Quatermain drew the gun and shot it at the ceiling. It didn't fire; Bishop's guns ran on electricity. He took a detour through the kitchen and grabbed the sharpest knife they had. At some point in the future, someone had invented a knife which was so sharp that Quatermain wouldn't have been surprised if it could cut metal. Carefully holding it out in front of him, he walked to the stronghold.

It was locked. Quatermain cut out the handle, ran the blade through the crack between the door and the frame, and gently pushed the door open. Bishop was there. He drew his gun.

"Not so prepared without your electricity and standing army, are you?" Quatermain asked, holding up his knife. Bishop, still holding the gun, took a few steps back. His eyes suddenly picked up on an irregularity on the gun. The closer he drew to Bishop, the larger it got. It was where the wiring had gone…but it was hollow. The gun wasn't electric.

Quatermain dropped to one knee as it went off, just the old-fashioned powder variety. It went off again, this time tearing out a chunk of his left arm. He growled and lunged with the knife, taking off a few of Bishop's fingers and cutting the gun mostly in half.

There was only a moment of struggle as Quatermain cut Bishop's throat.

"Your own damn fault," Quatermain said to the blood-soaked body. "Learn how to use your weapons next time."

* * *

The men in black had tried their best to ward off the beast known as Edward Hyde, but they were simply no match. He had taken a chunk of metal from a wall for cover…not that he needed it, most of the men were scared shitless and couldn't aim worth a damn.

The transformation had been just as excruciatingly pleasurable for Hyde as it had been for Jekyll, but at least Hyde hadn't passed out. Damn inopportune timing, too, as the darkie wanted information from him. Thankfully, the annoying invisible one had left.

"Do you know where Bishop is?" Nemo asked.

"The fuck should I know?" Hyde replied. "I wasn't here at the time."

"Then does Dr. Jekyll know?"

"He passed out."

"Can you wake him up?"

Hyde ignored him. Since the guards had finally wisen up and run (too bad though, great fun that had been, killing and mutilating again), there was nothing left for Hyde to do but find what was left of Jekyll's formula and smash it. He could make more later, the important thing was that no one else had possession of it. Hyde remembered the man who had last taken some of the potion, and the trouble it had caused him.

He could smell it, and smashed through doorframes until he found it. Hyde picked up a desk, smashed through the plated glass, and drained out the elixir from the vials. The smell wafted through the air, rousing Jekyll from his slumber.

"_What happened?"_ Jekyll asked, his voice very faint. Hyde paused. Maybe if he was quiet enough, Jekyll would just go back to sleep and leave him alone. "_Oh, it's you,"_ Jekyll said.

Footsteps came through the doorway. Hyde recognized them immediately. "Are you the one that smashed this place up?" Christine asked, not inquisitive so much as angry. Hyde approached her in the doorway, but she didn't move aside. "Daddy's not going to like that. You're in a lot of trouble."

"You're annoying," Hyde said, picked her up, and tossed her over his shoulder. There was a thud against a wall, and a sickening crunch as she hit the ground.

"_Oh my god!" _Jekyll said. "_Christine!"_

"_Shut up. For fuck's sake! I would have thought that you would have liked that, considering all she's done to you." _Hyde lumbered out of the room, wondering if any of those black-clad men were still wandering the hallways, and if any would be dumb enough to attack him again.

"_Go back,"_ Jekyll pleaded. "_Please, at least see if she's still alive." _

_ "I didn't throw her _that_ hard. Kids are durable. She'll be fine." _

Jekyll switched tracks. "_Is the mission complete then? Bishop is dead?"_

_ "Don't know,"_ Hyde said as he started down one of the halls._ "I suppose I could kill him if he's not." _

_ "And you didn't do this earlier because…?" _

_ "Well I wanted you to watch, of course," _Hyde lied.

_ "Of course. Forgive me, I had quite forgotten what it was like dealing with you."_

"_Well if what Mina's been telling me is true, you quite missed me in my absence." _

_ "I lied for her sake and you know it."_

Hyde felt the transformation's effects start to wear off as he entered the chamber he had left Nemo in. He had a minute, tops.

"Mr. Hyde," Nemo said.

"_Oh, right, he wanted to know if you've seen Bishop since you got here," _Hyde said.

"_I sort of heard him, but I don't know where he is."_

"Henry's gone and lost track of him anyways," Hyde said. "Now if you'll excuse me for a minute, you can talk to him yourself." The transformation occurred, still sweet in its intensity, but it meant that Hyde would be put away again, who knew for how long.

* * *

Blood was everywhere.

"Learn how to use your weapons next time," Quatermain said to what he perceived to be empty air. Skinner watched with what was starting to seem like horror.

"You killed 'im," Skinner said.

"He used me," Quatermain replied. "He used countless others. And his ultimate goal, the entire reason he fled to this timeperiod, was because he wanted to get the entire League under his control." He glanced at where Skinner was, and although he couldn't see his face, he seemed to guess that it was still contorted in shock. "You've never seen someone killed before?"

"Of course I 'ave," Skinner said. Growing up in the slums of London meant that murder was always lurking around the streetcorner. "Jus' not by a…" he thought about saying friend, but discarded it. "Acquaintance."

"I take it the rest of the League is around?" Quatermain asked, walking to the door. Skinner took a few steps back; Quatermain still held the bloody knife in his hand.

"Yeah," he said. He let that linger for a moment before realizing that he was supposed to elaborate. "Mina and Tom's off blowing up the factory, Nemo and 'enry should be in 'ere somewhere. Shouldn' be too 'ard to find, the place is pretty much deserted."

"I'll check the upper levels," Quatermain said, and strolled off. Skinner noted that, as Quatermain was walking away, blood was dripping from his arm. Skinner shuddered.

No, but he was being crazy. Skinner shoved it out of his mind.


	44. Chapter 44

CHAPTER 44

Nemo watched as Jekyll struggled to pick himself up off the floor. It had been one of the most violent de-transformations that Nemo had witnessed, and knew that Jekyll was probably tired in addition to his injuries, but they had to blow up the fortress, and soon, before people began investigating it.

Nemo would gladly have lent a hand, but that he was still experiencing pain in his leg when he walked. Not enough to stop him from walking, but enough to stop him from carrying an additional weight on his shoulders.

Jekyll paused on his hands and knees, looked at Nemo, and opened his mouth. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a slight squeak. Considering how he had been screaming when he'd transformed, it wasn't a huge surprise he'd lost his voice.

He looked distressed, frantically gesturing to the hallway behind him.

"I am proficient in lip-reading, Dr. Jekyll. Please mouth your words slowly, and I assure you I will understand." Nemo had picked up the skill, but had not practiced it in a western language before.

"I need to check on Christine," Jekyll mouthed. "She was hurt."

The shredded remains of the men Hyde had killed were strewn across the floor…but okay, if Jekyll wanted Christine…

Jekyll managed to one foot, the other badly sprained, and began hobbling to the door. He quickly fell to his knees again—blood loss, perhaps.

"Tell me where she is," Nemo said. Jekyll told him, and Nemo found her unconscious on the floor. Not in bad shape, altogether. There was a lump on her head, and her arm lay at a funny angle, but she seemed to be breathing just fine. When Nemo lay her before Jekyll, the man immediately set her arm against a strip of metal, tore off the remains of his shirt, and wound it tightly around her arm and the metal.

"We need to leave," Nemo said. "Bystanders will be getting curious at the smoke."

Jekyll nodded, struggled to his feet, and tried to pick Christine up. He fell over, and Christine fell back to the floor.

"Neither of us are equipped to carry her," Nemo observed. "We have no choice. Leave her here."

"We can't," Jekyll mouthed, looking back and forth between Nemo and Christine so fast that Nemo didn't catch any more of what he said, but knew it to be protests.

"Nonetheless, we have to leave. I can send someone back for her later."

Nemo handed his cane to Jekyll, who hobbled on it and could barely walk. Nemo gritted his teeth and managed to limp without it. Almost as soon as they were clear of the factory, Nemo caught a glimpse of metal shining at the doorway. One of the ex-guards had lingered for some reason…but then realized that it was Quatermain.

"Sit here," Nemo said, taking his cane back. Jekyll sat roughly on the ground, and glanced back at the factory.

"Mr. Quatermain," Nemo greeted. "I am glad to see that you are unharmed."

"I'm sorry I can't say the same about you," Quatermain said, gesturing to Nemo's leg. " Listen, have you seen Skinner?" Nemo cocked an eyebrow. "You know what I mean," Quatermain amended. "I haven't heard from him since we split up inside."

"I have not heard from Mr. Skinner since…" A floating body suggested otherwise. Christine, floating limp in the air. If Nemo squinted, he could imagine Skinner, holding her in his arms. "There he is."

"I jus' thought 'enry would want this," Skinner said. "She 'ad 'is shirt." It was still wrapped around her arm. "I shouldn' 'ave done this after what you did to my trenchcoat!" he shouted over to Jekyll.

Skinner carried Christine in his arms, and Jekyll took support from Quatermain as he limped back to the ship. Nemo managed on his own, but only just. He would have to rest once he was back.


	45. Chapter 45

CHAPTER 45

Quatermain escaped with a flesh wound on his arm. Mina, with the help of Skinner's description of what her future counterpart had done, recreated the solvent which removed the metal.

Sawyer received second and third degree burns on his hands and arm.

Nemo's gunshot wound was mostly healed, and he had put away the cane, but still walked with a limp.

Jekyll was still voiceless hours after he'd gotten back, scratched and bruised, had a badly twisted ankle.

"What a sorry lookin' lot you all are," Skinner commented. He and Mina were the only ones who had escaped without a single bandage. Even Mina felt exhausted, from the major healing her body had gone through and from the caring she'd had to do for the men.

"Damn," Skinner said, hovering over Sawyer. "_That's_ what third-degree burns look like? _That's_ what I had?"

"Skinner, _out!"_ Mina shouted. Jekyll and Sawyer were really the only ones with wounds which required them to be permanently hospitalized.

"Fine then. I'm going to go play with Christine. She's nicer than you are."

"Go!"

Christine had received painkillers, and had woken up without so much as a headache. Her arm had been properly splinted, and she had quite taken to Skinner (once he had convinced her that he was actually there, and not just a gadget of some sort).

"Does she know?" Jekyll whispered after Skinner had left, and the room had quieted down.

"Please do not strain your voice," Mina said, gesturing to the pen and paper pad which lay at Jekyll's bedside. He wrote a message, held it up.

"_Does she know her father's dead? That __we__ killed him?"_

"We had to do it," Sawyer said from across the room. "You _know_ we had to kill him."

"She doesn't know yet," Mina replied.


	46. Chapter 46

CHAPTER 46

Skinner supposed that he had been given the job of keeping Christine entertained because they wanted him away from them. Well, he was alright with that. Besides, Christine was surprisingly fun for a psychopath.

"What's that?"

"Greesepaint," he said, putting it on. Christine had been wearing the magical glasses to see what Skinner looked like, and took them off hesitantly.

"Ew, it looks all white!"

"Yes, but you and I are going on a little trip, and I can't very well go around looking invisible."

"Well you don't have to look like that."

"It's either this or nothing, and I'd rather—"

"This!" Christine said, pulling a bottle out of her pack. "It's called foundation. Hold out your hand."

The resulting goop was perfectly flesh-colored, and Skinner tentatively put it on. He looked in a mirror. "Hey, this stuff is great! Get me some more. Okay, great…yes. Now, are you ready to go? We're not going to be coming back."

"Can I say by to Henry?" Christine asked. Skinner was surprised at the request, mainly because it was the first thing she had wanted that she had stated as a request instead of a demand.

"Yeah, sure. Remember the rule—"

"Hold your hand and don't run away. I know."

Skinner unlocked Christine's cage, and she took his hand. When they arrived at the medical room, she let go and ran to Jekyll.

"What the hell?" Sawyer asked, looking at Skinner's new paint quixotically.

"There are young ears present, Mr. Sawyer," Mina reprimanded.

"You mean the paint?" Skinner said. "Looks good, dunnit?"

"It looks surprisingly normal," Mina said.

During this exchange, Christine had firmly attached herself to Jekyll's torso. Jekyll raised one hand uncertainly to Christine's arm. "I'm leaving now," she said.

"Goodbye," Jekyll said, and seemed unable to say more. Skinner noticed, with some alarm, that Jekyll actually had tears in his eyes.

"I'll miss you," she said.

"Well we'll all visit sometime," Skinner said. "Were are the belts?"

Mina produced them. Skinner placed one set around himself, and the other around Christine.

"It's the big red button," Sawyer said. Skinner pressed the button on both of the belts, and the two disappeared from the Nautilus's medical room.


	47. Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47

Mina, known to the League of the early 20th century as Melissa, sat in her room. For once, all of her electronics were turned off. They had amused Mina greatly as she had gotten older, watched as telephones evolved to be fused with the computer (now able to be held with one hand!), and often had music playing which spanned the centuries. But now, it was quiet. It reminded her of when she had been a young woman. It was quiet, and she could think.

She had mixed some of the blood she kept around into a drink, and wondered if it had worked. She watched the living room; she had programmed both of the belts to arrive in a few minutes. Skinner had promised her that he would return, and so at the very least she could anticipate them.

Two figures arrived. Mina felt a rush of emotion at seeing him again—as she had each time she had run into the people who were now dead. Skinner, still wearing such old-fashioned clothing and alive after all these years. The second figure—Christine—had shed her clothing somewhere along the line.

"What is she doing here?" Mina asked.

"Well we didn' 'ave the 'eart to kill 'er," Skinner said. "And 'enry wouldn' let us jus' put 'er in an orphanage."

Mina's lips pursed; the only time she had heard of the girl was in connection to Bishop. Christine was quiet, and stared at the floor.

"Henry wouldn't?"

"Yeah, 'e spent kind of a long time with 'er. Her dad put the two together."

"I suppose he thought she needed real companionship. So then the Stockholm Syndrome set in."

"Yeah, sure," Skinner said, clearly not understanding a word of it and not caring. "Listen, she's kind of going through a rough patch, and we were kinda 'oping she could stay with you or you could put her somewhere?"

Mina considered. There were still orphanages of sorts, and were not even comparable to the hellholes of the 1900's.

"Yes. I'll take her. Now, did the mission go okay?"

"Yeah. We got back Quatermain, Jekyll and Mina are back to normal, we killed—" he glanced at Christine "—a lot of time."

Mina raised an eyebrow. The phrase was outdated, and Christine wouldn't understand him. She didn't know, then, that her father had been murdered, or who had done it.

"Your glasses," Skinner said, handing them over. "I guess you get to keep one of the belts after all."

"Until later?" Mina asked.

"Goodbye."

There was only one thing left to do. Mina put Christine in a room, and took the belt. One last thing—to close the loop. She punched in a message for them to receive, and went back in time to set the entire thing in motion.


End file.
